Destiny: Outcasts
by Monkey Pillows
Summary: "You know, I take back what I said about Fallen being smelly. Iksis isn't so bad." -Cayde 6
1. Chapter 1 (part 1 of 3): Iksis

Iksis stood perched against a ledge, scanning out into the distance.

The moon was riddled with small colonization plants, little areas or pods of settlement. And inside them resided the House of Exile's finest. Those of which he was waiting for.

He looked at each one, they all represented an orange and grey mix, making the moon look partly like an industrisized wasteland, part demoninc summing pit.

That was when he began looking at the Hellmouth-the giant crater in the center of everything where the worst of the Hive resided. It was leaking green gaseous fumes, probably toxic. Anything down there was devoid of light-drained of it.

It almost made Iksis want to venture down there some day. To see what abominations would await him, to kill as many as he could. It would be thrilling.

 _Some day._ He said to himself.

The Vandal had a consistent death wish-he was craving it. From the day he left the Wolves and slaughtered his commanding officer where he stood to harrasing Guardians and other Hive creatures. He knew how to fight them, how to combat them. He knew all of their weaknesses; exploited them. It was what seperated him from the weak and weary. Those who stood by measly orders of a Kell, having the weight of the House on their back. Iksis would have no more.

And apparantly neither would Exile.

But although they were the same in many aspects, Exile was late. Iksis was not.

He cursed them in his Fallen language, still scanning for them. "Gah." He muttered, sliding down the ledge and kicking up moon dust in his wake.

When he reached the bottom of the traversal, he noticed everything was earily quiet. There was nothing around-no Exile, no Hive. Nothing. It was as if the entire moon had just simultaneously died off.

He tilted his head sideways, the chain mail over his jaw chiming and his dark black cloak sliding a small amount. He traced his Fallen hands over the cloak and readjusted it. As a slight precaution, he had his fingers around the grip of his wire rifle, ready to be drawn.

But still nothing.

The House was late and Iksis couldn't get this out of his head. It was their own detriment too. He was their link to the Ether. Ammo and weapons were supplied for their lifeline.

And, without a steady supply of Ether, the House would crumble. It was imperative that the House meet them when they were designated to.

Iksis sighed. Or, rather, it was a low-toned gargle noise. He held his hands up to his throat.

It was sore, from his daring escape. He massaged the point where the sword had cut into his throat, moving his hands underneath the chain mail and vigorously but still carefully scratching.

It was his mark, his sign of defiance. Though it wasn't the same for everyone else, no one escaped a House unharmed. For Iksis, that harm meant a shock knife right into the neck.

Any regular Fallen would have died, almost instantly in fact. But Iksis was not just any Fallen. He was stronger, better. He would survive.

He moved his hands away and snarled.

With a huff, Iksis began walking the other way. Back to the ledge where his Skiff was parked.

Iksis was resourceful-crafty. He could take anything from anyone and they wouldn't notice until it was too late. That meant stealing a Skiff from the Devils on Earth.

Iksis used to not live by a code of honor. He used to work for whoever supplied him the best. Though the Houses did not like to admit that they let in a foreigner, one that was not their own, to do their dirty work, it happened nonetheless.

But that was before Iksis changed. Back when he was starved for Ether and would do anything for it. Now, he had his own Ether supply and his own Skiff. He was self dependent and needed no House or Kell.

But that didn't change the fact that House Exile was late-and that they would suffer.

As he reached the incline up to the ledge, a voice rang out. It was small, belonged to a Dreg.

House Exile.

Iksis spun around with a Wire Rifle raised at the target, determining if his thoughts were precise. They were.

He saw a small green-clad Dreg with two Vandals and 4 Shanks. The classic Exile setup. Unorthodox, but only because it was all they had. A few rusty shanks and battle-worn Vandals.

Iksis winced. The Dreg was small, frail. He did not want to kill the creature. He wanted to pity it. To feel remorce.

It was not his fault they were late, though.

He cursed them in Fallen tongue aloud, and the Vandals nervously paused. Continuing his insults, he began walking towards the group and progressively getting louder.

He stopped when he was at the Dreg, then muttering "Where is my ammunition?" In the alien language.

The Dreg shook at the intimidating sight of Iksis. A deserved reaction. It also didn't help that Iksis threatened to rip out their throats with nothing but his hands. And other things.

But of course, the shaking soon stopped and a small crate was presented. Iksis nodded in approval.

It was then that he realized he didn't do these deals for himself, but rather for them. He had more than enough ammunition to last an army, nonetheless himself. But something kept drawing him back to this broken House. If you could even call it that.

It was that they were in his situation. Lost, unguided. Alone. He kenw the feeling all too well. He needed them to feel they weren't being pitied, that they weren't part of a charity. It would dissolve what pride they had left. No, he had to keep the trades to a reasonable amount.

Maybe he could give back some of what he had traded? Maybe when they weren't looking? That was a venture for another day.

For now, he was going to lead the small Fallen pack to his ship, where he would then supply them with his supply of Ether. Maybe add in a little more when they weren't noticing.

 _Stomp._

They approached the ledge, all readying for the trek that was about to insinuate.

 _Stomp._

They turned their attention around, to see an army of Hive approaching them.

All at once, the Fallen drew their weapons and began firing at the patrol. They had the upper hand for now.

Shanks poured out electrified projectiles while the Vandals poured out beams from their Wire Rifles.

One nailed an Acolyte, thinning their numbers.

But that still left the 8 more Acolytes and 3 Knights Iksis had counted.

He and another Vandal charged forward, into the 3 Knights as they reciprocated the move.

One brought down his sword, and his body action says he was hesitant to do so. Iksis took advantage of it.

He brought his rapiers across the chest plate of the Knight, scathing its armor and causing it to recoil back.

The second Knight wasn't as lucky as the first.

He parried the heavy sword and struck it to the side, moving his blades in straight at the Knight's helmet.

It swept off with a clean blow and Iksis didn't hesitate slicing its head off.

He turned to his left when he had a moment, seeing his Vandal ally take a masive blow from the Knight's sword.

The ranged Fallen behind it were doing their job well, keeping the Acolytes from hiding behind small formations of rock clusters or walls.

Iksis stormed the unsuspecting Knight, smacking it back with a Wire Rifle and prepping a shot.

It was then that a sword scathed his back-side, but he noticed the air change as the swing was produced. At the right moment, Iksis rolled forward straight into his enemy but escaping the Hive cleaver to split him in two pieces.

With the remaining charge, he swiftly pointed the barrel right in between the three glowing green eyes of the Knight.

It tore a hole straight through, leaving a smoldering bullet hole that Iksis could see through.

The Vandal took no further hesitation and rolled back to his feet, drawing a shock knife.

Iksis tossed it straight at the now-charging Knight and it landed in its shoulder plate, sinking into it and shocking the Knight's body.

He charged for its exposed Knight's body, bringing his knee forward and nailing it straight in the partly chiton-like partly rock-like helmet and put a crack in it. The Hive stumbled back further, swinging his blade back and forth to keep the Vandal from approaching any further.

The Vandal had one more trick: The Shrapnel Launcher.

He pulled it from his back, ignoring the Hive projectiles whizzing past his vision and his body. He pulled the trigger while the Knight regained its bearings.

It shot a scattered blast, all leading straight to the Hive.

Without a split second to decide, the Hive lifted a black mass in front of him. _Impressive._ The Vandal thought to himself. But he had no time to test the full extent to the Knight's strength, but rather had to kill it before finding out. _Pity._

He rejoined the remaining Fallen and raised his wire rifle, scattering shots to the final 3 Acolytes and finishing them with ease. Leaving the Knight.

It had already charged them, swiping its sword into the group of Shanks and destroying all of them with ease. He turned to a Vandal, plunging its sword straight through the Fallen's chest.

It threw the Vandal right off, smacking the next to the side. It was angry.

But Iksis had noticed something else. It was as if the Knight had no control of his actions the whole time. The entirety of the fight its expression had been...docile if that was possible. He didn't want to kill. But unfortunately, he was. That had to change.

That left only the Dreg and one remaining Vandal on Iksis's side. _You will slay no more Exile._ Iksis promised.

The Knight charged while Iksis was still drawing his swords, forcing Iksis to rush back and let the Hive Knight swing.

He did, and in an impressive arc. It had barely reached Iksis and scathed the chain mail on his face.

But his swords were drawn. He stabbed them straight into the Knight's hands while he dropped his blade, swinging a punch into the Vandal's position. This he was not prepared for.

He took the blow, swinging him to the side while he heard a disruption.

To their left, where the Vandal and the Dreg were standing. Another figure.

It put a bullet straight through the Vandal's head while rage rushed Iksis. To the Dreg it merely smacked it away and approached the two.

He struck a knife out, stabbing it in the chest of the Hive and pushing it away. It faced Iksis.

It was a Guardian. The Guardian was wearing a cloak, as well as standard grey armor he witnessed newlyborns wearing. _This is going to be easy._

He charged the Guardian with his swords drawn. It sidestepped and landed a kick straight into Iksis's chest, staggering him back while a handcannon was drawn.

Iksis charged forward while the shot rang out, and everything fell silent.

The Vandal didn't manage a swing, but saw the white Ether-like substance leaking from his wound and seeping down his form.

It was right below his hard, protected part of his chest. It was right on the relatively squishy part of his chest, and it hurt like hell. Iksis fell.

His vision swam while the same gun was drawn to his head, and the hammer was drawn back.

The Guardian muttered something while a large black form was crept up behind him.

Iksis didn't stay. Instead, he turned the other way and began crawling as far as the Guardian would allow.

There was something happening behind Iksis, but it was all white noise. He was going for the Dreg.

The Vandal continued crawling until he reached the fallen form of a Dreg. But he wasn't dead. It was merely playing so.

Iksis choked, gargled on his own blood-like substance while muttering " _To my ship._ " In Fallen.

With that, Iksis let himself fall and stare out at the moon's atmosphere. He could see the stars greatly from here, regardless of that obnoxious green gas seeping out of the Hellmouth. Not a bad way to die.

He heard the pitter patter of the Dreg's feet rushing past him, struggling up the hill and to his Ether load. _Everything I have._ Iksis said to himself, proud to have supported a cause much like his own.

He shut his eyes, letting out a final gasp of air and dying completely.


	2. Chapter 1 (part 2 of 3): Ak'tal

The Hellmouth. It was the home of Ak'tal. Commander of his fierce small brood, trusted by Crota himself-or at least when he was still alive.

Now the brood rots away in the pit, feeding off of what light they can and scavenging what they must to survive. Ak'tal made a promise to his army: He would not let them die of starvation. It was a vain promise to make.

 _You must find light._

 _ **But I do not want to.**_

 _Yes you do. Your will belongs to me._

 _ **My will is my own; and I choose to not hunt for light.**_

 _But your brood...They will die._

 _ **My brood is important, yes. But this is a losing battle. They know that.**_

 _So you are going to fit into their negative expectations?_

 _ **I will not hunt for light.**_

 _You are weak. You do not belong in the position of commander. I knew I could not trust you to do so._

 _ **Call it what you must; you are not alive anymore. You can not control me.**_

 _That is a fool's gambit. Feed your brood._

Ak'tal felt his legs slowly moving, back and forth and back and forth. It was as if a fundamental force had control over him that he wasn't able to see.

He gripped the hilt of his blade, hefting the large and mighty sword to his eye level as his brood followed slowly behind. He shouted a roaring sound, signalling it was time to move, though he did not want to hunt for the light. There was something else controlling him… something inside of him.

Of course, he could not see his servants but he knew they were there… listening.

He never felt as though the light needed hunting, he felt it was undeserved-that maybe the Hive was wrong. Light didn't deserve to die, in fact, Ak'tal felt more in-tune with Light than he had with Dark.

That was what made Ak'tal weak.

The group navigated through the dark pits of the Hellmouth. It being their home, they were able to navigate it with ease and speed.

Soon enough, they trekked so far that they had reached an ascending bridge. It led to the surface, and Ak'tal was ready to crawl out of the pit and into the fresh(ish) air.

He continued groggily walking, two Knights flanking behind him and maintaining their lead. He counted nine total Acolytes and two Servants. This was what his brood had come to? To be consistently degraded through every scavenging mission? He knew not to make them a promise to keep them all alive from danger. That was an easily broken promise.

They trusted him more than anything-he was their leader. Their commanding force. They would follow his word because he kept his to them.

He reached a level platform, leading to another section of the bridge. At the top of the inclined bridge was light. The signal that they were close to being on the surface of the moon. To that, the Knight gave a slight sigh of relief.

 _ **Almost there.**_

 _To the light? Why must you be so weak? So undeserving? I wish I had realized this before I had been smite._

 _ **I do not see this as weakness-**_

 _Then why are you my puppet? Why can I have such a tight grip on you even when I have been killed?_

 _ **My will is my own.**_

 _Is it really?_

 _ **My will is my own.**_

 _You know this to be untrue. Do not lie to yourself._

 _ **MY WILL IS MY OWN!**_

He put a hop in his step, continuing up the bridge faster. He had to get as far away from this cesspit as fast as he could. Ak'tal began a sprint, rushing to the light while his servants followed suit.

He reached the outside. All at once, everything fell silent. It was peaceful, calm. He didn't have to listen to the various screams and shrieks of Thrall feasting, or something dying. He was free. And his loyal army was with him.

 _I can sense Light. But this time it is not yours, weak one. It is off in the distance. Move._

The Knight tried his hardest to resist the voice, but to no avail. He charged straight in the direction of where the light supposedly was. He continued moving with his pack following close behind, reaching House Exile territory. There were grey and orange pods littered all around the sight, right outside of the Hellmouth's entrance. Usually there would be Vandal snipers with Tracer Shanks to cut off any Hive that attempted to move, but today they were all empty.

There was not a single Fallen in sight. Anywhere. Ak'tal stopped dead in his tracks.

 _Off in the distance. There is a group of them. Kill them. Feed your pack._

Ak'tal looked in the direction the voice was guiding him. A small group of Fallen, conversing with one another.

They were littered with Vandals and Shanks, with the exception of a single Dreg. Ak'tal breathed in heavy, ready to attack them given a moment's notice. But they had already engaged.

A wire rifle blast shattered an Acolyte's skull, killing it instantly. Ak'tal let out a mighty roar, ready to charge the enemy. He and his two Knight brothers charged right into the Fallen legion with three Vandals approaching them.

Ak'tal heard the voice screawming at him to swing his blade, to smite the Fallen where he stood. He attempted to listen past it, but nonetheless the blade went down where the target was.

Since it was a hesitant strike, the Vandal had the advantage. He brought his two swords swinging across Ak'tal's chest while the Knight leaped back.

Ak'tal watched as the Vandal swiped at his Knight servant, decapitating his brother and sending fury through his thoughts.

All he could do was watch as the Vandal continued to kill the Hive. He sent a Wire Rifle shot barreling straight through its head and he fell to the ground. "Arghh!" Ak'tal screamed. With fury, he charged the Vandal that was being elusive from him.

The Vandal had seen him, however, and prepared a shock knife just for him. The blade swirled in the air, straight at Ak'tal's chest and planting it deep in the Knight's armor. He winced in pain as it sent tendrils of electricity surging through his body.

His enemy took no further hesitation, he rushed the weak Knight and brought his padded knee straight into the Knight's face. The blow sent him back, cracking his helmet and causing one really bad headache. He slashed his sword out in various directions, beckoning the Fallen back more while he had a chance to regain his bearings.

The Vandal accepted, and pulled a Sharpnel Launcher from his back and began firing. Without thinking twice, Ak'tal brought up a black wall and absorbed the shots, rendering them useless.

Ak'tal charged straight into the Vandals that were pelting his army, killing all of them. He had pure anger in his heart-not because his master had told him to, but because his legion was killed off.

He gripped a Vandal by the shoulder, slicing his sword straight into the chest and lifting the Vandal up for a moment, draining the life from him. He threw the dead Fallen off, moving to the next and clencing a fist. It smacked right into the Fallen's head, tossing him to the side. That left the final Vandal.

The Knight swung its sword right at the Vandal, barely scathing its face as it made its way back. The sword sunk into the ground, leaving his hands exposed. Without much actual thinking the Vandal pluged its swords into the Knight's hand. To this, the Hive swung another fist at the Vandal. It landed square in its face, staggering it back.

He prepared one final swing-something to finish off the Vandal where he stood and avenge the onslaught. Ak'tal brought it up, ready in a wide arc and began its swing.

But the Vandal's attention was all of a sudden stunted. It hadn't even retraced its vision to Ak'tal. The Knight pondered, lowering his sword and wondering what the source of the Vandal's preoccupation was. He lifted his sword again, roaring at the Fallen while he drew his weapons.

But the weapons weren't drawn for the Knight.

The Hive leader realized this all too late. A Guardian had walked past, nonchalantly shoving a knife straight into Ak'tal's already weakened armor. The Knight stumbled back, landing in the moon's dust and completely losing all movement. He listened as he heard a Fallen scream, then a gunshot.

Emotions rushed all over the Knight. Something that was not commonplace for standard Hive. He stood, shrugging away the pain that the light had created in his chest and he hefted his sword forward at the unsuspecting Guardian.

The sword easily cleaved right through the Guardian's back, severing its spine. When he fell to the ground, Ak'tal gripped the Guardian by its throat, cursing at him in Hive language and throwing him to the ground.

He approached the crawling Guardian with a swing of his sword. It landed right in front, and the Knight turned the Guardian over. Of course, Ak'tal had no quarrel with the Guardian, he did have a quarrle with the Vandal. And no one is going to kill him but Ak'tal.

He shouted another curse at the Guardian, walking away and to the still Vandal.

The Knight heard a grumble from the Guardian, turning to see its call. He saw the Guardian with a handcannon drawn, and didn't have another second to think before the bullet went straight through his head.


	3. Chapter 1 (part 3 of 3): Krastis

Krastis peeked out of the window in the Mars base. Outside there was gunfire, warfare. His insides felt warm at the sight of it, fighting. He was quite literally born to fight with the Cabal's Legions, and now that he had been ammited, he could show the army just what strength the Psion's had.

Of course, there were a few points of conflict that Krastis had faced through his career. One was that he believed in retreat. In cutting your losses. That was a practice frowned upon by the higher-ups of the Cabal. The second was that he had no quarrel with the Guardians. They had originally done nothing wrong, and had stumbled upon the Cabal by accident. Of course, the rest of the army hadn't shared his disdained thoughts and shunned him for them.

So naturally Krastis was placed in the most bottom-feeder esque jobs he could get, as well as a few other Psions who had proved to be invalid in combat. It was regular stuff like armor repair, armor cleaning, weapon rebuilds, etcetera. Krastis did not like it one bit.

He had only seen combat a few times since being stationed on this Red Planet. One the Guardians had deemed 'Mars'. Before that, he was a regularly-used Psion commander. He had his own legion, his own troopers. He led them to victory in the previous system, giving the Cabal a guaranteed victory.

The Psions were dedicated. They were always eager to prove themselves, and proved valuable assests in combat. If the Centurions, Collosi and Phalanxes were the backbone of the Cabal army, the Psions were the detail. They tended to issues that didn't always involve direct combat, such as temporal energy focus, supporting wounded, healing, hacking and anything technical that would require… well… an _intelligent_ creature.

But one mishap in combat landed him on the dirty work. And not the good, fun, kill things dirty work. But the actual dirty work. Stuff like cleaning armor and bottom-feeding.

He led his Psions behind enemy lines, to intercept an important target and to destroy him. The mission proved to be a failure, but there were always failures in combat. The Cabal understood this. What landed him out of commanding officer was the fact that Krastis had seen overwhelming numbers when spotted. And wanting to keep his squad alive, he retreated and cut his losses from the fight. The Cabal saw this as cowardish, rather than smart or conservative. They stripped his badge, and banned the phrase he had created in Cabal language. "Move away from combat."

They didn't have a word for retreat, they didn't believe in it. But Krastis had always toyed with the concept, thinking about how many wars could have been more decisive if the Cabal army had cut its losses just a little bit more and decided to pull out in certain fights. Maybe they wouldn't have a soldier deficit like they do now. Maybe their claim over Mars would have been more aggressive, more certain.

Krastis thought to himself, pronouncing the word just as he had heard many Guardians talking about it. "Mars." He said it to himself through low-pitched hums and clicks. He was intriguied by their pronunciation of it. The Cabal called it something way more sophisticated. It was the word for 'Staging Point' with a number designation.

That was all planets were to the Cabal-staging places. They never dubbed them actual names or titles, just 'Staging Point [insert number desigation here]' It was kind of sad, seeing how the army had cut through just about every major force in the universe, carving their way to this solar system.

The more he thought about it, the more he became distasteful of the Cabal, the more he didn't mind soldiers dying. It wasn't like another wouldn't be right behind to take his place anyways. For now, at least.

While he thought these thoughts the red flashing lights of the base came on with a voice booming over the intercomms. A siren. There was a Guardian.

The voice was commanding that all hands be put to the use. With the recent leadership assassination, it was only natural that a majority of the Cabal's force be deployed. But it also meant that Krastis could see action for once in a long time.

He dropped the large piece of Cabal armor that he was repairing. A Minotaur had punched a hole straight through a Cabal Legionarre, killing him. Of course, they wanted the armor repaired for his memorium, that would have to wait for now.

He ran out of the armor station, dashing down to the dark hall illuminated only by red flashing lights and jolted to the left.

Down that hall, multiple Psion reinforcements were being called. They ran side by side, trying to get to the armory as fast as they could. In front of the group was the leader they dubbed "Bokar" which meant 'Fearless', a title often received but seldom kept.

Krastis took another left, joining an even bigger group of Psions. Down that passage would be the armory. Krastis and the group entered the relatively small room for their size, rushing to their respective holding places and gathering their gear.

For Krastis this meant a small, lightweight Cabal-based design that had just been issued to every soldier-whether or not they were in the active field or behind the scenes. Krastis adored it.

He slapped on some extra padding as well, providing armor that was brand new-a disdainful sight for a Cabal soldier. Their armor was supposed to be edged, battle hardened.

Unfortunately his hadn't seen battle since it'd been issued to him, meaning it wasn't jagged or scarred. His was smooth and ornate.

Regardless, he marched past the rough-looking Psions with determination. Determination to get battle scars and come from the fight victorious. He raised the small slap rifle, letting out a battle cry as they poured forward and out of the Cabal base.

As they ran, Krastis could feel Psions behind him trying to trip Krastis. The discrimination he faced was serious. They muttered things like 'Not fit to fight' or 'Get back to the armor station'.

Outside, it was sandy and red-as was usual. The only peculiarity was 2 Guardians, side by side, combatting Cabal that were approaching.

Krastis descended down the ramp, raising his rifle and firing off a small barrage. They nailed one of the Guardians, staggering him slightly and turning his attention to the Psions.

With a swift grenade throw and a dive, the front approaching force was wiped out. Krastis went in closer.

The second Guardian billowed up in electrical power, diving forward and slamming his fist right on the ground into the wave of Psions. It was because of Krastis's self-preservation that he remained the only living Psion of the group of 20 that had initially engaged the fight.

He shot off rounds in the slap rifle, them still hitting their target as he ran back to find cover. It was technically retreat, but Krastis didn't like to look at it that way. He liked to look at it as strategic repositioning. Not necessarily running from the fight but getting a better vantage point.

The Cabal Psion ducked behind a small burrow of rocks as the Guardians pelted his position with projectiles.

The rest of the soldiers were dwindling in numbers, making this his only chance to get a good shot off on the Guardian. He leaped from cover and unloaded on the closest Guardian, all projectiles hitting their mark and throwing the Guardian to the ground.

He successfully downed a Guardian. But that still left one more, and one that had dispatched of the rest of the Cabal in his area but Krastis. He turned his attention to the lone Psion.

To this, the Psion prepared an energy blast. If anything could keep the Guardians at bay, it was the elements. He was going to use this to his advantage; especially since he was adept with the temporal energy.

He raised his fist while a wave of arc energy spouted from the ground, beckoning the Guardian to stay back. He pelted him with the slap rifle, providing him with a challenge.

The Guardian tossed a grenade, causing Krastis to roll to the side almost out of its damage range. It detonated and sent shrapnel all up on Krastis's armor, denting it and removing the polish on a majority of the armor.

 _Great. Got the dents, now just need to live._ Krastis thought to himself. He rolled back up on his side to see the Guardian already on him. The being smacked Krastis to the ground with an auto rifle raised. To this, Krastis swirled his hands furiously, sending forth an electric pulse that shocked the Guardian.

He rose and retrived the rifle, unloading more bullets into the Guardian and downing him as well. Satisfied with his victory, he cheared a small amount until he realized something was off.

He looked to where the first downed Guardian was, but nothing was there. He began to panic as the figure appeared right in front of him.

The Guardian jammed a knife straight through Krastis's chest, throwing him to the ground and taking the knife out.

He didn't even feel the pain. He felt the loneliness of death cascade over him.

He raised it one more time, right over Krastis's head. The last thing Krastis saw was the point impacting his helmet. Then, complete darkness.


	4. Chapter 2: Ghosts

"Scanning… Done. I have all of the filaments required." Ghost chirped to his communicator. "Good. The Guardians will be thankful." Ikora answered. Her voice was stern, and moreso than was normal. It was as if she was on edge due to the quietness of activity.

In the past few months, no threats had arisen that needed much Guardian help, and thus the Tower almost remained dormant. But everyone knew that calm was just a signal of a storm, so they sent out all available assets including Ghosts to gather materials and weapons and anything to help the cause.

The silence scared everyone involved, most prominently the Vanguards.

The Ghost let out a robotic sigh, ready to return to the Tower to undoubtedly get sent on another metal scavenging run. That was all the Ghosts were really used for nowadays. It was as if Guardian population was halted, that the ones currently alive were the only ones getting resurrected. So now the remaining Ghosts that didn't have Guardians were merely scavenging resources for the ones who were living.

He continued flying through the air lost in thought. He was wondering what would happen if he himself had found a new Guardian. What his life would be like. What did Ghosts do when they had Guardians who weren't doing much?

He flew past pods and moon soil, looking out on a large span of the moon on a ledge, including the ominous Hellmouth pit. Everything was quiet, as was usual. He was deep in Exile territory but hadn't seen a single Fallen scout.

As he was thinking of the silence of the planets and the Tower's enemies condemed to silence that a fight had broken out to his left, alerting the small Ghost.

He swerved his form to the side in an effort to examine the fight firsthand. When he did so, he found the usual Fallen and Hive combatting, but off in the distance. Ghost sighed again and flew away from the scene, ready to return to Earth. There was nothing he could do and if anything no interference was needed. The more the Hive and Fallen kill each other off, the better.

He let out another monotone sigh while trailing off into the distance more. The fight was drowning away, and the thoughts twirling in his head began to decrease. But something tugged at his small geometric form. Something was drawing him to that fight, egging him into it. He wanted to listen to his instinct, to scout it out and see what they were telling him to do.

So he did.

He flew swiftly down the ledge and behind a rock in order to see the fight without being spotted. It was very mundane and regular as far as skirmishes go, but for some reason this one seemed different. Like some kind of balance was taking part. Something working behind the scenes.

He poked up above the rock, listening to the screaming and the warcries of the Eliksni and Hive.

"Hmm." He said to himself. He had no answer as to why the fight was intriguing and why his instincts were guiding him, but the Traveler Spawn decided to stay until it had all panned out.

He watched closer and with more intent while seeing a Knight slaughter a Vandal. Another Fallen to his left then rose to challenge him with rapiers drawn. There was something different about them both. It was as if the Hive was hesitating to take life and that the Fallen had no allegiance. He was wearing gray garb as opposed to House Exile, or any House for that matter.

While they fought it out a loud gunshot was heard, like one resounding from a handcannon. It was then that the Ghost witnessed a Guardian walk onto the scene while a Vandal fell to the ground. He smacked a Dreg out of the way while the remaining one charged the Guardian. He was easily countered and gunned down, leaving a wounded Knight that took a knife straight through the chest.

He continued to watch the fight, including the part where the Guardian had his spine severed when it all ended. The Knight was killed and the Guardian was healed, only to jump on his sparrow and speed away.

There had to have been more to that fight other than seeing a Guardian gun them all down. Something that made it out of the ordinary.

"Wha-" He started.

It was then that another geometric shape took place to his right, startling him. The Ghost jolted back in recoil to another Ghost's voice, this one being a female-like voice.

"I'm detecting a foreign light signal, two of them. Right over there." The shape gestured. She was pointing at the fight that had just taken place. This one seemed very bossy, like a control freak. It was also really weird that she had approached the other Ghost and briefed him as though she knew him.

"Yeah because there's a Guardian-" Ghost started. "No. Not Guardian. It's sporadic, untamed. I can sense a resurrection, but there's not just one. There's two." The female Ghost interrupted. Her voice was a stern one, one that knew her place and her objective.

"Put that together with the fact that the Guardian is already about half a mile from here and that I'm detecting the signal on the corpses over there, and I think we have two new Guardians." Upon finishing her sentence, she went to the fight as a Dreg had retreated from the battle, paying the two small Light Bearers no heed as he retreated.

The second Ghost began scanning. "You know that there's not a human or Awoken skeleton here, right?" He inquired. The Ghost simply ignored him, scanning over the bodies of the dead Fallen and Hive. "And that there is only the minions of darkness over here?" He continued. Finally, she gave out a robotic sigh and turned to the other Ghost. "I am fully aware. But this isn't a cliche case of Guardianship. It's as if the signatures are coming from the Fallen and the Hive bodies."

The Ghost was taken aback, the words echoing in his thoughts. How could two Guardians be in the same place at the same time, combined with the fact that they were Fallen and/or Hive? He pondered this for a moment when the other Ghost chimed out a noise.

"Aha! I found one. It's… a Fallen Vandal." She said, with happiness in her voice. There wasn't even a tinge of fear or any doubts in her mind, which could mean insanity. I mean, the Ghost was quite literally resurrecting an enemy of the Traveler.

"There's another light signature and it's coming from…" She said, finishing her sentence with a grim tone. "Traveler almighty." She finished.

"What? What is it?" The first Ghost asked, zooming over to her to see what the commotion was about. Her scanners were indicating that… a Hive Knight possessed the Light necessary for Guardianship. And he could sense it too. He could feel the light emanating off of the Hive as well as the Vandal she had been inspecting. "This is… odd." He said, at a loss for words at the situation.

"Get me Commander Zavala." The Ghost ordered. It obviously wasn't to the other geometric shape, but it was to someone at the Tower. After a few moments of silence and awkwardness, a voice boomed through the Ghost's comms.

"We… have a complication." She said to the Vanguard. "We found a Guardian-" She paused, obviously hearing Zavala's voice. "Right, I know, but this isn't just any Guardian. We found the corpse of a Fallen Vandal and a Hive Knight containing light." She went on. "No, it's not the light they may have consumed. That type of light is degraded, stays with them much like a stain. This is something else. It's not rendered useless, it's able to be contained. Much like a Guardian's."

The two remained in silence, and Ghost could tell Zavala was as well. Then, an order. The Ghost shook its shape side to side, as if in a sigh of disagreeance. "I have to." She answered back. After that, Ghost could tell she was thinking about her decision to ignore the obvious order to not mess with them but eventually decided against it. With that, a beam of light erupted from her eye and shot out at the Fallen body.

Before anything further could happen, she turned to the first Ghost and said "Get the Knight. Worst case scenario we resurrect two minor minions of the Darkness. No biggie." She ordered with a slight tinge of worry in her voice, but nonetheless the Ghost obliged.

He went over to the dead body of the Hive, seeing that his hadn't disintegrated like the others' had. Which was unusual. Usually when a dark entity such as Hive was killed, the darkness left their bodies and rendered their physical form useless, causing it to crumble into nothing more than ash.

He began scanning, revitalizing the Hive body and bringing light into it until the body flashed white and-

"Rahh!" The Knight shouted. He swung blindly with his fists while the Vandal jumped to a standing position. The two instantly recognized each other and charged, ready to kill each other again without even thinking about their current condition.

The first Ghost flew into the center of them, shocking them and pausing the fight. Luckily, they hadn't declared the Ghost as hostile...yet.

"Wait!" He exclaimed. "Let me explain. You two are not enemies anymore. You fight for the same side." He said, hoping they could understand what he was saying. "You just got resurrected. By us. You contain light, there is something inside of you that let us do this. Do not fight...please?"

The two stopped, putting their hands down at their sides and pondering a little. It seemed they could understand what he was saying.

"So I'm guessing you can understand what I'm saying…" Ghost said, pausing while the two 'Guardians' twitched and kept breathing. "So you must also get the fact that I'm a Ghost and you're well… You're Guardians now." He continued.

The Knight stepped forward. "We are born from darkness, not from light. Hive are not able to harness Light." He spoke. His voice was hoarce, harsh. One you'd expect from a Hive that speaks outside of its native tongue.

"I… I don't know how that happened either. But you obviously contain untainted Light. Though I have no idea how, one thing is for sure: You are not like the others."

To that, the Knight stepped back and put his head down.

The Vandal was the next to speak.

He gestured to the Ghost watching it all from the sidelines, then asking her "What does this mean for us? We're obviously not… standard Guardian material."

He had scars all over his body, wearing grey garb and not identifying under a specific House. It seemed as if he was wearing a Hunter's cloak complete with a chain mail covering his mouth and a venomous look in his eyes. This was the type of Fallen that you would have to watch out for.

"I have no idea. But since you harness light you were chosen by the Traveler. First things first: We have to get you back to the Tower and I guess we'll see from there." She answered. "Well. I like the confidence."

"Well, since it seems we're linked now, might I ask your names?" The Ghost asked. The Guardians nodded.

"I am Iksis." The Fallen said.

"And I am Ak'tal."

Ghost liked the names. He felt a real connection with them, even though they were sworn enemies. He felt a wave of relief rush over him. He finally had a Guardian. His mind continued to drift as the group began to walk along the moon's surface.

"One more thing: We need a ship." The female Ghost said while everything had become silent. Iksis turned to her, ready to answer back with confidence. "I have a ship." Just as he remembered the Dreg from Exile would no doubt be near the ship unloading it, probably with company.

Iksis sighed. "But its probably encumbered with other… not so friendly Fallen." He said. He thought about the chances of getting his ship back. First he would have to bring two Ghosts to it, not to mention the Knight, have to explain everything that had happened as well as explain why he wasn't dead.

"So… Looks like we have some negotations." Ak'tal muttered.

…

Death.

It is a necessary part of life. An ultimate Destiny. The final destination.

Krastis never minded the thought of death. He entertained it. At least, once upon a time. Back when he had the honor to back up a glorious death, he looked forward to it. Cabal believe that each and every death means something. That death is to be celebrated to an extent. Even if there is mourning, there is always celebration that follows.

But now, Krastis feared that in his final moments there would be no mourning or sorrow or celebration, there would be nothing. After his battlefield disgrace, he then feared death. Wanted to avoid it. The Cabal show no fear, and rarely possess it. That is because of their egos, their glory. Without that glory, there is fear.

Krastis floated through the void, waiting in his final moments for it all to just end. This was his last few seconds of 'life'. He was in a void of some sort, it was completely dark. There was nothing.

Maybe the finality of death wouldn't be so bad. He would stop facing humiliation from others. It was finality, and he probably wouldn't notice that he was even dead.

It was after pondering these thoughts that a bright white light flashed, giving notice to his surroundings. It was nothing but limitless reaches of black finally illuminated. Krastis looked at his body as the light got brighter, illuminating the dark and empty reaches while the Psion readied for finality.

 _Is this death?_

Finally, the light completely died one moment then returned the next.

He moved his head, examining his surroundings. There was a real environment, not just nothing. He leaped to his feet feeling fear and confusion. He was back on Mars. He jerked from left to right and continued to scan, seeing numerous Cabal soldiers surrounding him.

He gripped something in his left hand, seeing that it was a slap rifle being clutched by his grip. The Cabal began yelling as a shape flew by.

His attention darted straight to it and he realized it was an almost unfamiliar and hostile sight. A Ghost.

He'd seen various Guardians carrying them, they were like the Guardian's assistant. And that meant it was his enemy, or at least until it talked.

"I don't know if you can understand me, but we have to move. You have a bunch of Cabal that want to kill you and likewise for me. Just listen to me until this ends and I'll explain everything later." It spoke. Krastis didn't know how, but he could comprehend its language. Something he hadn't been able to do before.

That was when he listened into the Cabal chanting. They were repeating 'Burn the heretic'.

Krastis blinked. The ring of Cabal soldiers tightened as 3 Psion commanders entered the ring. Instantly, the soldiers raised their weapons and began chanting louder.

They raised their slap rifles while Krastis raised his that he had recovered a second prior. The Ghost looked back at him, then saying "I'll leave you to it. In the meantime, I'll be… in you." It said. With that, a small weight was added to Krastis and he saw the Ghost disappear. He shrugged it aside and focused on one thing: Survival.

The first Psion was decorated in bright red clothing, glowing and signaling that he was adept with fire and Solar energy. The same was true for the other two Psions. One for the Void energy and one for the Arc energy. They were the Flayers. And Krastis knew that he stood little to no chance against one, not to mention three-fold that. '

The first charged forward, and Krastis's instincts kicked in. The Solar Flayer raised a palm, sending solar energy straight to Krastis. He dove to the side, then peppering him with shots from the slap rifle.

Without time to prepare, the arc Psion had charged this time. A fist was swung at Krastis carrying Arc energy, and the Heretic dodged to the side and prepared a blow of his own. He channeled the energy his fist had held a moment ago, stealing the power from the Psion and throwing it right into the Psion's form.

The energy surged straight through its body, frying all sorts of electronics and killing the Psion. Steam billowed from the limp body as it fell to the ground, signaling the Void Psion to make his move.

It charged straight to him, throwing a single void projectile that Krastis caught within his hands, the void energy feeling weightless but heavy all the same. Deciding not to hold onto it any further, he chucked it right back at the purple Cabal.

The small Psion flew forward straight to Krastis, who gripped the neck of the Cabal and jerked his hands to the right. The body went dead and fell to the ground, leaving the Solar Psion to deal with.

Krastis raised his hands, channeling the same familiar energy that he had been the entire time while the Flayer raised his rifle as a last resort. But to no avail.

Krastis flicked his palm forward, sending forth a wave of flames right at the Flayer's face. Given a few more seconds, the painful cries of the Psion were reduced to nothing but ashes and a smoldered body.

The rest of the Cabal stopped their chanting and had their rifles raised. Krastis finally realized what he had done. He'd just eliminated every single Flayer the Cabal had at their disposal on Mars at the moment, leaving them with none in the System. They weren't too happy about that.

"Run!" The Ghost alerted to the Psion. He took the advice to heart, dropping his slap rifle and dashed to the edge of the ring while bullets peppered all around him. The 3 Cabal blocking his way were undermined by a simple slide under their legs, but they too had turned and began shooting at Krastis.

Doing nothing but swinging his legs back and forth, he managed to escape his seemingly inevitable death and eventually get out of range of that group of Cabal.

Stopping to take a break, he spoke again to the Ghost… his Ghost. "What is going on."

"Well, I know this is weird but… you're a Guardian." The Ghost paused for effect. It had no difference on Krastis. "And I resurrected you." He continued, weirded out that Krastis had not moved an inch since he had been explaining. "And I'm your Ghost?" He finished. Still nothing.

"Aren't you just a little bit… I don't know, confused?" The Ghost asked, leaning in closer. Krastis quickly checked his surroundings before spitting back an answer. Something that had become a habit: Check your surroundings before speaking.

"No. It does not bother me in the slightest. The Humans, Exos and Awoken are not individually chosen, they are merely native to this System. The Machine God would favor them above others, and they are most likely to have taken in Light from its arrival. I'm organic and can harness light just as they have, just in different forms. Temporal energy." Krastis said. "Or at least, that was the case until you brought me back."

The Ghost gave a bewildered expression at Krastis's answer. He hadn't thought about it like that. The whole idea that previous enemies could become Guardians piqued his curiosity since the report of a Fallen and Hive Guardian on the moon, but he hadn't looked at it in every angle as Krastis had.

"We're gonna need a ship in case you were wondering." Ghost said after his thoughts. Krastis sighed. "I know where they are, but we're gonna need to get through the base. It's buried deep." He replied with a monotone voice. "Great."


	5. Chapter 3: Escape Artists

Zavala paced back and forth from the small table that he usually stood at, massaging his temples.

"It's not that bad if you think about it. The Ghosts are all reporting that their subjects are listening to them, so it's not like we have amplified enemies on our hands." Cayde chimed in. Zavala shot an angry look at the Hunter, who merely put his hands up in surrender and backed off.

But Cayde still knew how to get Zavala to calm down.

"Think about it like a strategical advantage. We have the enemy on our side. You know as well as I do that the Cabal are about to remobilize and attack, so what's better than having one of their Psions on our side? The Hive are just mischevious in nature, always planning something. And the Fallen? Everyone knows they're always up to something." Cayde said, feeling impressed in himself for the idea. Zavala shot him another icy glare when Ikora spoke.

"He is right, Commander. As much as this is unorthodox this could turn out to be an advantage." When she finished, Zavala's face seemed to be a bit less stern and began to think of the whole situation as it was rather than what it looked like. That was his soft spot: strategy.

"You may be right about that, but how could this happen? There has to be an explanation." Zavala reasoned. This time, a voice outside of their conversation chimed in.

"The Traveler does not pick who has been gifted with Light. No one can make that decision except the Traveler's Spawn. The Ghosts. They see the usable Light in individuals and resurrect them. Everyone has been touched by the Light in one way or another if they've been exposed to the Traveler, it is merely how the individual takes the Light that makes them a Guardian. So it makes sense that any organic or inorganic," The Speaker paused, gesturing to Cayde. "Can be worthy of wielding the Light. Simply put: It doesn't matter whether your metal, flesh, or Light and Dark, it matters that you can contain the Light."

Zavala tilted his head like a dog trying to comprehend something. Then, it went back straight and he asked, "What should we do?" To this, the Speaker looked down and said "I can sense a new rip in the standard Guardians. There is something new coming, something we have never faced before. These three 'unorthodox' Guardians will be the key to stopping these new threats. You, the City, and the Traveler will need them. More than you will ever know." He finished with a sorrowful tone in his voice as if he had seen something that he couldn't discuss or was just too horrible. With that, he turned and walked out of the room just as he had entered.

"Great. So looks like we're back in business?" Cayde asked, clapping his hands together while finishing his sentence. "This is gonna be fun."

…

"What exactly is the plan here? I mean we're just sitting here watching your Skiff." Ghost spat. Iksis ignored it, staring intently at his Skiff that was where it had been a few moments before. The only difference was the amount of Fallen surrounding it.

He knew that this would happen. And he felt guilty taking it from them, but at the same time, he and his allies needed the ship more.

He let out a low pitch growling tone and examined the area. It was surrounded by Vandal and Shank teams, with the exception of a few Dregs unloading the Skiff with the valuable Ether. Iksis turned to Ak'tal, saying, "You wait here. I'm going to give a signal if this doesn't work. That's when you come in and start cracking skulls. Alright?"

Ak'tal stared back at him, showing no difference in his emotions or expressions. It seemed like he was just a husk; a corpse. Iksis turned away, hopeful that the Knight had heard him.

He approached the Skiff with arms open. Partly because he was seeking no quarrel with the broken House, but also because he hadn't recovered his weapons. Iksis quickly turned around to the two Ghosts and Hive Knight cowering behind the rock. After a few more moments of watching the assembly line unload his Skiff, a single Vandal noticed him.

Of course, they had recognized him, but the only problem was that Iksis was supposed to be dead. Granted he was always a sight for sore eyes to the House of Exile, that didn't change the fact that he was technically their enemy now.

But whether or not House Exile would figure out if he was a Guardian would remain unknown. A single shout was heard from Exile and every Dreg and Vandal turned their attention to Iksis, including one he had recognized from before.

They all had Shock Pistols or Wire Rifles raised at him, and Shanks were emitting bluish energy from their guns.

"I require my Skiff." He spoke while the House tightened their grip on the weapons. "You are supposed to be among the dead. How are you living?" A Vandal asked. Iksis looked down, trying to ready a lie.

"The wound was nonfatal." He fibbed. He saw their expressions change when they said that, but not in his favor. It was more of a scared look. Like they were finally piecing everything together.

"I saw you get shot, though. Right now there is no wound. You are a liar." The Vandal spoke again. Iksis clenched his fists. They were figuring it out.

"That doesn't change the fact that it is still me, and I require my ship again. If you take the bit of Ether in there and don't give me back the Skiff, it will be the last shipment you will ever receive. And the last thing you'll likely see. Trust me." Iksis said. He hadn't wanted to pull that card, but it _was_ necessary given the circumstances.

To this, the Vandal's expression tightened.

…

Ak'tal continued sitting and waiting for Iksis's command to charge the enemy. But so far, everything was panning out and it looked like it would be resolved soon.

After a few more moments of waiting for the signal and seeing that nothing had escalated quite yet, he began to sit and think.

About the craziness of being a Guardian. When not more than 2 hours ago he was fighting it. He wondered why he could be a Guardian. He could somewhat understand why 'Iksis' was a Guardian, he'd had contact with the Traveler back on his home planet. Not only that, but the Fallen weren't necessarily in tune with the Darkness either. Ak'tal had served directly under Crota himself. So why was he chosen?

He supposed it was due to the lack of Darkness within him. He knew that the voice had spoken with him and him alone because he was different. He was different than the other Knights. They despised the Light, he gave it mercy. Maybe Ak'tal wasn't dark himself. Maybe he'd just served under it. But that still begged another question: Did he even want to be a Guardian?

He supposed that he hadn't truly thought about it much, given the shortness of his new life. He liked the feeling of not being encumbered by the Darkness, and not having that voice talk to him once more. He liked the feeling Light gave him. He felt warmer, stronger.

Ak'tal peaked over the piles of rocks again and looked at Iksis. He was still negotiating with the other Fallen when all of a sudden, they parted way and allowed Iksis on the ship.

The Knight raised his sword, ready to board the ship just as Iksis had. As he grabbed the hilt, Iksis turned and pointed at Ak'tal, gesturing for him to get on. Ak'tal nodded and began walking to the ship when the two Ghosts appeared.

The Fallen hadn't caught sight of him yet, so there was no hostility quite yet.

But the silence lasted a little bit too long. A Dreg turned and raised a shock pistol, firing on instinct at the costs. Ak'tal raised his sword and deflected the shot while the two Ghosts dematerialized and left the Knight to face the Fallen.

But Iksis interjected. He ran out from his ship and began shouting. "Do not shoot them! They are with me."

After he'd said it, the same Vandal turned to him and said "You are working with the Dead Ones now? Heretic!" Iksis simply stepped in front of the Vandal and shouted "Of course I am! How else would I have been resurrected! But we are not the enemy. We are your allies, and we will still protect you. _I_ will still protect you. I can reason with them now, command them to not engage House Exile if you do not engage them. This is better for you, as your numbers are dwindling."

The Vandal's expression tightened, but after a few more seconds of a Mexican Standoff he dropped the Wire Rifle as the rest of the Fallen did the same with their weapons.

With the tensions behind the group, Ak'tal and the few Ghosts boarded the Skiff while Iksis sat in the piloting seat. "Off we go." He said.

"Wait." A Ghost interjected. Iksis stopped firing up the Skiff to face the shape. "I'm getting reports of another Guardian… like us. They need assistance. Chart a course to Mars." The Ghost ordered. Iksis nodded and obliged, tearing the skiff off the planet and heading into hyperspace.

…

Krastis moved through the tunnels in the cramped space.

To his left was excavated Mars rocks, and to his right was metal plating and Cabal tech lining the walls. As he walked the walkway began to dip and come back up again. Small pads for walking lined the bottom of the tunnel, and every so often he would find himself either elevating or descending in height.

He raised the slap rifle while his Ghost illuminated the way ahead of him.

"One more right then we reach the Interceptor hangar. From there, we're going to have to speed our way to the aero hangar." Krastis said. He kept his voice to a low, as any noise caused in the tunnels carried all the way out of them. "Why don't we just go to the aero hangar by foot? It's just over there-" "Because they're going to expect me to go to the aero hangar, we're going to need some firepower." Krastis interjected.

All the Cabal knew was that they had a renegade Psion on their hands, but they didn't know he was about to steal an Interceptor. The last place they'd expect a deserter to go would be right back where he was stationed. Not to mention the fact that the aero hangar would be on lockdown.

It also helped that most of the Cabal forces stationed were on a planet-wide hunt for Krastis. The Cabal didn't appreciate deserters and would stop at nothing until Krastis was found. He took in a deep breath, thinking of their perseverance and why it sucked at some times. Especially when you were on the flip side of the battle.

All of Krastis's thoughts began to halt as he heard stomping down the tunnel. The voices of Cabal soldiers frightened him, and he ducked behind a metal container of some sort while he began to listen more intently.

He heard them speaking to themselves, and it sounded like there was two of them. The bigger guys.

"I will find the deserter myself and crush his skull in my hands." One said to the other. The second bellowed, probably a laugh, then said "You wish for that fate, but you will not get it. It isn't healthy to dream, Boreas, especially in the battlefield." To that, nothing else was said. But the Psion could tell how close they were to him.

Using stealth to his advantage, he crept around the side of the box while the two soldiers passed him without a doubt in their minds. When they were behind him, Krastis began to walk as he was a bit more cautious, as well as turned around so he could see the enemies at all times.

When he reached the right turn, he heard more voices progressively come into earshot. In front of him was a large circular door of sorts. Behind that metal sliding door, he could hear the bellows and shouts of Cabal soldiers. There was a whole armada behind the next set of doors as far as Krastis could tell. "This is not good." His Ghost said to his right side. Krastis jumped at the new sound of the voice and the sudden appearance of the small robot.

Krastis turned to the shape and simply said "When has it ever been?" As he approached the doors.

A lot of the time, Krastis is all about being strategic and outwitting his opponents. But here, this would have to change. There was no strategic advantage to his side other than his powers, so that was all that needed to be used.

He would have to run in guns drawn and try to take them down before they took him down. It was simple as that. No strategy, just point and shoot.

The doors jerked to the side while a central lock began to spin and pull two bars out of their sockets and the door began to lift. But before the soldiers could turn their attention, Krastis slid through the bottom slit that had just opened up and charged right into battle.

He dove on top of a big guy's back, pumping rounds into the helmet of the soldier while his allies began shooting at him, trying to hit Krastis off, but not succeeding. If there was one thing the Cabal weren't known for it was their accuracy.

But his luck had run short on top of the Legionnaire. A lucky blast from a rifle had smacked him right off of the shoulders of the soldier, sending him falling to the ground below. The soldiers began to move to his recovering body with their guns raised. They would undoubtedly gloat about their victory over Krastis.

But he wouldn't let them. They hadn't had the best of the Guardian just yet.

As they got closer and formed a ring, Krastis felt flames billow up inside him. That slap rifle shot had empowered him, sending the solar energy coursing through his body as the flames crept up his throat. He felt the rage of being disregarded for so long, of having his honor stripped away. He felt the cleanse of being a Guardian and how good it felt to be fighting on the right side. Suddenly, a flame sparked in his chest, and he let it loose.

His body became enveloped in flames, burning everyone within a 2-foot radius of him. He flicked his palm forward and tendrils of flames licked their targets, completely engulfing them and smoldering their bodies.

He sent the Solar Energy flying everywhere until finally slamming his fists into the ground and setting the whole place flaming.

With everyone dead and the place catching flames, Krastis had to find a vehicle to escape in. His mind turned to the Interceptors that were parked in a row, untouched by the battle or by the flames.

Krastis put a foot forward and immediately felt the tiredness of unleashing the power surface him. He'd never used that much in one sitting, not to mention the fact that he'd never used that kind of energy before. But it felt relieving and cleansing. When he was using the temporal energy before he was a Guardian it was as if he wasn't reaching the maximum capabilities of his power, and he had just seen what happens when he unleashes his full potential. Utter chaos.

A metal bar fell to his right engulfed in his flames. It gave him the motivation to put aside his tiredness and sprint to the Interceptor.

He reached the seat and started it up, slamming the throttle forward and sending the Interceptor barreling right out of the station, narrowly missing a wall of flames and a few more fallen building materials doused in flames.

The Psion turned behind him and saw the entire facility burning. The destruction he'd caused to the very facility he was stationed less than a few moments ago was relieving. He never hated the Cabal, but he felt their cause was unjust for a majority of the time serving under them. It was during their last conquest that he'd realized maybe he was fighting for the wrong side. Mass genocide had been committed without second questioning. Millions died for the Cabal's own interests. For no reason.

He punched the Interceptor into max gear, sending sand and dust billowing up behind him as he made his way to the aero hangar. The loud engine of the Interceptor became more and more relevant as he kept the throttle up.

"That was interesting." Ghost chimed. Krastis gave a half-hearted smile, then saying "Yeah." But something piqued his attention.

"How am I able to communicate with you?" Krastis asked while the hum of the Interceptor progressively grew even louder. "Well, I'm linked with you. You share my thoughts… in a way. The link between a Ghost and a Guardian can stretch mental capabilities. I, if understanding of the language has been acquired, can translate any language without you even realizing. Which is why we've been able to talk and why I'm talking to you right now. Very complicated stuff, really." The Ghost said. That had answered Krastis's question and also finished at just the right time for them to reach the aero hangar.

This one was slightly more alert than the facility they had just teared havoc through. Partly because Krastis was spotted in the Interceptor hangar, but also because a runaway would need a ship to get off the planet.

At the front of the warehouse, a line of Cabal soldiers was stationed. On the catwalks in the facility numerous Psion engineers walking back and forth with weapons drawn.

He knew this would happen. Stealth wasn't an option. He would need speed and his cunning nature to get him into a ship.

As he was thinking of his battle plan, a transport ship began to hover above him.

Krastis looked up, past the dust and sand being sent everywhere and saw the attachment of…

"Uh-oh."

The tank hit the ground and shook it, probably causing a tremor halfway across Mars. Krastis readied the throttle as the Goliath turned to him, preparing a shot.

He slammed the gas forward, sending the Interceptor straight to his enemy. Of course, the drivers would be slightly confused as they would have thought Krastis would beeline out of the way so some adjustment to their shot was needed.

But still, the shot boomed out of the tank's cannon and straight into Krastis's Interceptor.

At the last moment, Krastis leaped out of the Interceptor and felt the flames of the blast zoom past him. The shockwave of the blast sent him flying forward, hurting from the fire but not dead.

His body skidded onto the tank as the hatch smacked open. His exposed body was being aimed at by a Psion who had poked his body out of the tank to finish him. Krastis thought faster though and sprinted to the Psion.

The Cabal pilot rang shots out on Krastis, a few of them hitting their target and staggering him. As he tilted to the left, he pushed himself forward and right into the Psion in an almost drunken movement.

Krastis's body smacked into the Psion with a force that knocked the Cabal unconscious. He took the slap rifle from its hands and leap from the tank, as he'd seen oppurtunity.

A transport ship whirred into earshot, and it raised its guns to Krastis, interrupting his plans. "To the tank." He said to himself.

The ship began peppering the tank with large projectiles and keeping Krastis from escaping. He took a path to the gaping hole in the tank, preparing to slid into it and close the hatch. "Please tell me you're not going to do that." The Ghost warned. Krastis didn't listen.

A shot hit to his left, and he was thrown perfectly into the hatch of the tank. He landed in the interior of the tank, hastily reaching up to the hatch and slamming it shut before a lucky shot could impact in the tank itself.

Inside was dark but still illuminated by a single red light and panels. There was about 4 crew members to a Goliath Tank, and they were all Psions. That left him with only 3 enemies to go.

To the front of the tank, where the largest screen was stood two Psions gawking at Krastis in confusion. He couldn't blame them. They'd just seen the heretic leap onto their tank, take out their gunner _and_ slide back into the tank. He could understand their confusion quite well.

He turned behind him, seeing the third crew member holding a slap rifle while shouting at Krastis, "Burn the heretic!" While clutching the trigger.

Krastis ducked under the anticipated shot. It had just barely grazed over his helmet while he slammed his body into the Psion, taking the rifle and emptying a single shot into the head of the Cabal operator.

He turned to face the other two who were sluggishly reaching for their weapons and shot them dead on the spot. "Easy." He said to himself.

Outside of the tank Krastis could still hear the sound of the hovering transport ship above him. There was still that problem. Put that together with the fact that Krastis couldn't operate a tank on his own, nonetheless get it to move a few feet. He sat down, thinking to himself.

"I don't see a way out of this." Krastis told his Ghost. He felt disappointed in himself. Like he'd failed someone or something. It was just in his nature, though, as he _was_ a Cabal soldier.

"Put me into the console. I should be able to figure out a way to move this tank." He ordered Krastis. Immediately, the Psion stood and headed to the main console. He pointed at it, then saying "There it is."

The Ghost began scanning at the terminal. The blue light expaneded into a cone, encasing everything in the cone's reach into illumination. And, just as fast as the cone had formed, it disappeared. "Done. I have control of the tank. Taking it to the hangar." The Ghost said, just as a loud _CRASH!_ Was heard on the outside of the tank.

Krastis immediately panicked, backing up to the wall and expressing his worry. The Ghost muttered, "Woops. Accidentally shot the cannon." Just as the tank lurched forward. Krastis gave a nervous laugh.

"Approaching…" The Ghost said. Krastis readied his palm right under the hatch, still feeling the vibrations of the ship's rounds peppering the top. "We're there." Ghost said, gesturing for Krastis to leave the tank and make a beeline for the hangar. "But give me just a second." He continued. Krastis did just that, waiting with his hand encased over the hatch, ready to throw it open at any time and rush out.

He felt the gears hum as the cannon turned to face something outside of the tank. Finally, that same crashing sound that resonated the first time went off again, then the whirring of the transport ship slamming to the ground. With that, Krastis slammed the hatch open and skittered off of the top of the Goliath.

His feet hit the sand with relief. He'd been kept in the crammed spaces for too long, and he was finally out in the open for once. But it wouldn't last long. He was about to get back into a ship.

The hangar was about 10 feet away, and it was littered with transport ships parked on the ground and on the second level alike. Unfortuantely for Krastis it was also littered with Cabal soldiers; but they were cowering after seeing what the tank had just done to the transport ship. There was also the other matter of more transport ships being mobilized to him.

He didn't take another moment to waste his partial advantage. He began to run into the hangar and to a designated Transport ship. One was standing in the center of the hangar, already started. It was no doubt another Transport ship that would be pelting the Goliath with rounds, had the Ghost not eliminated the first.

The Psion slid to it, smacking the side of the cockpit as it slowly opened. Without hesitating, he slid into the ship while the door was still opening, pressing another button to shut it simultaneously.

Inside matched almost entirely the interior of a Goliath. It was black, illuminated by one flashing red light and a few panels. Seats were littered in the back of the transport, and for some reason there were those in Goliath tanks as well. The two seats in the front matched the Goliath's seats and Krastis sat in one and punched the ship to life. "I hope you know how to fly one of these things." Ghost said. "I do too." Krastis said, punching the throttle forward and slamming the metal side into a catwalk. "Whoops."

"I'm going to ignore you just did that and give you another chance." The Ghost retorted.

After that, the ship blasted out of the hangar and hit Mars's sky. Krastis looked to his Ghost and said "Where to?" With a joyful and determined tone.

Just as he had said it though, and the feeling of accomplishment washed over him, the sound of transport ships flanking him had come to his ears.

Without thinking twice, he jerked his ship out of the way of a barrage of bullets. "Crap!" He shouted. He took a nosedive to the surface, pulling up at the last second and regaining speed. "I would recommend that you-" A projectile hit the side of the transport ship and sent the controls jerking out of his hands. The vehicle lurched sideways and made contact with the ground while inertia and kinetic energy did their jobs and sent the ship bounding in the air.

Krastis was launched out of his seat as the ship smacked into another, sending flames going everywhere on both sides. An opening in Krastis's ship threatened to pull him out but he remained gripping onto a metal bar while the ship spun out of control.

"Get to the pilot's seat! We can still make this work… I think!" Ghost shouted. What he really meant was _Get to the pilot's seat so we can maybe not die._

But Krastis still listened. He didn't want to die in this iron coffin so he sprung forward. Immediately, his hands gripped the back of the pilot's seat while he could _feel_ the ground getting closer. He threw himself a little bit further, yanking up on the stick and feeling the whole ship reverse its falling course.

"What do we do now!" Krastis shouted. The whole interior of the ship was sparking up and partly catching fire. Granted, it was small flames that could be extinguished without effort, it was still fire. He also knew that the ship wasn't able to break orbit now because of the… hole.

To this, the Ghost simply said "Call for backup." And did just that, sending an SOS to other Guardians.

"Keep it in the air for as long as you can-" The Ghost started. He was interrupted by the impact of several more projectiles peppering the ship, tearing holes and killing the engines instantly.

Krastis slammed up on the stick even though the engines were dead and used the fins to keep him from plummeting. It was also a big mistake.

The ship remained in altitude contrary to his opponents preparation and another ship slammed into Krastis's.

His body was flung forward as the nose of the other ship was sticking through the back of his. The only way out would be the hole he'd created. Hopefully he could survive the jump, but trying to crash-land with another ship attached to his was literally suicide. Making a beeline for the hole, he saw just how close the ground was.

Without further hesitation, he leaped off of the side of the ship to his best capabilities and found the ground had hit him in under 2 seconds.

The explosion from the other two ships sent another shockwave that threw Krastis into the sand ahead. He slid for another 10 feet and when he looked up the Psion's vision began to swim.

Another 3 or 4 ships were beginning to surround Krastis, sending dust and sand all throughout the area and blurring his vision even further.

The ships all lined up while the sides and behind opened up, revealing Cabal that were jumping out and hitting the ground. They instantly had their rifles raised and pointed at Krastis, who was immobilized.

As they neared in the typical circular fashion that they had, Krastis put his hands up in surrender. A useless gesture.

The first Legionairre to approach him gripped his head with his hands, gloating as he did so. "I told you all I would crush his skull with my hands, and here I am!" He shouted. Krastis simply closed his eyes and readied for his inevitable death.

He felt the fingers of the soldier slowly gain more pressure until the front of his visor had cracked.

Krastis gripped the arm, heating up his hand to the best of his capabilities and watching as his fingertips seared through the armor. The soldier merely grimaced and threw Krastis to the ground.

"It seems an execution is no good until he is tired out. So be it." He said. The soldier put his foot over Krastis's chest, in an effort to get Krastis to see his face right before he died.

The Cabal lifted his foot and leveled it over the Psion's head. "Down with the heretic."

Krastis closed his eyes.

…

"There! Quickly!" The Ghost said. "His vitals are fading, he's not gonna be alive for much longer!" The female Ghost shouted to Iksis. Iksis nodded, punching the throttle forward more than he had before, sending the ship to a dangerous speed as it entered Mars's atmosphere.

Flames billowed up slightly around the Skiff, but they weren't serious due to Mars's lacklust atmosphere.

The Skiff entered the scene faster than anticipated and gave no time for a halt of any kind, and it barreled straight into a Cabal ship.

"Brace!" Iksis shouted as the Skiff crashed through the Transport ship and sending it tumbling into another to its left.

The impact halted the Skiff just enough for Iksis to dump a few projectiles into the remaining two, sending them to the ground faster than he'd entered the atmosphere.

"Go!" Iksis shouted at Ak'tal. The Knight leaped out of the Skiff, slamming into the ground as the Cabal aimed at him. To this, Ak'tal raised a black barrier out of dust, still able to channel his dark energy. The bullets peppered off of the wall and he could hear them shouting out at the previously unseen enemy.

Ak'tal had never seen Cabal before either, only heard stories. He knew that they inhabited Mars and were a large fighting force that utilized brute strength a lot, but he'd never seen them. And he had to admit they were really ugly.

The Knight lowered his shield and charged into the group of soldiers with his sword drawn. It sliced clean through one, rippling void energy across its chest. To the next two who attempted to engage, he smacked his fist straight into the helmet of one and impaled the other.

This time, a larger flank of them approached and already had him surrounded.

Just as fast as he had engaged in the fight, he was losing it. Rounds peppered to his left and right, many of them hitting Ak'tal himself. He didn't have the will to summon another wall. Instead all he could do was attempt to retaliate.

As one smacked him in his head, he raised his sword and channeled the Light he had fought against for the longest time.

He felt the void fill his insides, felt it move through his arms and chest out to his palm, where it connected to the sword and made it glow a dark purple. The rounds were still being shot, but Ak'tal no longer felt their pain.

He swung the blade in an arc to his left, the blade's void energy extending out and cutting targets 10 or so feet away from the blade and dissapating them into nothing.

With the last ounce of rage he kept within him, he leaped forward with the blade facing the ground and ready to obliterate everything in its path.

He hit the ground as the Cabal attempted to back up, but to no avail. The blade sunk into the ground and Ak'tal saw the energy dissipate into the Mars soil and spread, creating a large explosion that spawned from the blade and from that, a vortex.

The void-infused ground that there was formed a gravitational pull, throwing the Cabal right onto the sword where the vortex was. One by one, the Knight witnessed Cabal claw at the ground for their life, only to have it disappear from existence from the power of the Void.

Ak'tal plucked the sword from the ground and saw the glow fade do nothing, ending all combat around them. But it wouldn't last for long.

He was tired, but he could see the Psionic Guardian laying on the ground obviously wounded. He walked to the Psion with his arms outstretched, and a different Ghost appeared in front of his face. "Thank you for that… saving throw. You kept him alive." It said. Ak'tal merely nodded and brought the Psion back to the now-parked Skiff. "Let's get out of here." A Ghost said.

 **Author's note: Thanks for the reviews guys. Like a lot. This is the first story I've gotten a review on, nonetheless only positive ones. Many thanks for the support.**

 **So a few of you PM'd me about how the classes work. For story reasons, I'm only going to reveal Ak'tal's and Krastis's. Iksis's is yet to come *maniacal laughter***

 **Krastis:**

 **So basically I wanted to make this character a Warlock-type that wasn't really a Warlock called 'The Warden'.**

 **Basically his main ability/elemental power is kind of like Radiance. He surrounds himself with flames and is basically a walking flamethrower. If you want a detailed description of this class, see the next page.**

 **Ak'tal:**

 **I wanted to make him a Titan, but one that was more… strategic? Think of a Knight rather than a brute when you think of his class. He's like a Titan but not barbaric? Idk.**

 **His main ability focuses on void energy. It basically either empowers his sword with void energy to use with longer range strikes or he can slam it into the ground and it has nova bomb-like effects.**

 **Keep in mind the more swings he lets out that are longer range the less power his sword bomb has. A detailed description of this one will be listed on the page after next.**

 **Anyways thank you guys for the support and for the good reviews, I'm trying to make this story as good as I can make it but honestly this is just being written as I go. Not really following a template on this one.**

 **Sorry for this seemingly pushed chapter, was kind of crunched on time and wanted to put out a chapter like I have been. Every 2 or 3 days so I rushed to writing this one this morning and here we are. Again, thanks for the support and if there's any constructive feedback or things you think I should be doing let me know in the reviews.**

 **I am Monkey Pillows.**


	6. Warden Subclass (not official chapter)

**Grenade:**

Flameseeker:

Grenade that bounces off the ground once, finding a target to stick to and detonating. Deals burn damage as well as initial impact

Incendiary:

Grenade that explodes, dealing burn damage in an area.

Firebolt:

Grenade that sends fire-seekers to up to three targets.

 **Super: Flame Dance:**

Ignites user in flames. They gain the ability to throw flames outward in a flamethrower fashion.

Propulsive Flames:

Flames are thrown farther

Intelligent Flames:

Burn damage inflicted has the chance to be chained to another nearby enemy.

Brutal Flames:

Gains the ability to slam into the ground, dealing massive fire damage in an area.

(Melee is the exact same as Warlock Sunsingers with same perks, upgrades etc.)

 **Ability Tree One:**

No Mercy:

Upon activation, super sends a large blast of concussive flames in a small area. Using restores health.

Boundless:

Super heals all allies within a small radius

Protection: 

Killing an enemy with the super (not with burn damage) restores health

 **Ability Tree Two:**

Conservative: 

Less super drain from not hitting enemies

Consistent:

Grenades and melee recharge faster. With full super, two charges of grenades and melee are allowed.

Cautious: 

Lose less health with full melee, super, and grenade energy.


	7. Chapter 4: Remnants of a Dead Order

1.1: Dr. Zarin. Zhang. I called you all in here to discuss our… technology. I have good news and I have… not so good news. Good news is, the technology is nearing its final stage of being invented. The bad news is the market won't allow it. This Clovis Bray experiment will have to stay under wraps until I sort everything out, legal documents and such. Estimated time for that to finish is about… 3 years.

1.3: Why? They were all for the idea when it was first proposed.

1.1: Zhang, everyone knows the markets change just like the governments do. At first, yes, it was a promising peace promoter. But… they saw what Team 1 was working on and its capabilities and well… didn't like it too much. They saw it as too much of a risk. So until we have assumed full absolute control of our technology I'm afraid our work has been for nothing. My only request is to keep it safe and working until then. No advancements in the tech itself, just how we control it.

1.2: So what are we to do until then?

1.1: Explore new possibilities, Dr. Zarin. We continue doing what Clovis Bray has been doing since its been founded. We invent. Produce. One small setback isn't going to kill us. We just have to work out the final kinks and convince the people to vouch for it again. It is not our fault they cannot visualize the future like we can.

-End Transmission

BRANCH 1

Take the weapons and ~consume enhance replicate~

BRANCH 2

Take the wounds and ~consume enhance replicate~

BRANCH 3

Take the constructs and ~consume enhance replicate~

BRANCH 4

Take the organic matter and ~consume enhance replicate~

BRANCH 5

Take your directive and ~consume enhance replicate~

BRANCH 6

Take the structures and ~consume enhance replicate~

They reached the door. Finally.

Before stepping forward and ending their crusade, they all looked at one another. They had done it at long last. Given the reasoning that they had made it this far and that every hero's story involves casualties it's only natural that they succeed. They had to.

The one in the front turned to the rest, holding a large battle axe in his hands. Flames licked around the blade, warming the air around him and giving encouragements to his allies. "Brothers, Sisters, this is the finality of our quest. Our crusade. Whatever lies beyond this door is sure to hold glories. For humankind."

The words reverberated through the dark hallway, into their ear drums. But right as the glory and reassurance set in sadness fell upon the group. They remembered their fight all the way leading up to this point. Hundreds piled at the entrance, fighting to get through. Until their numbers slimmed. Down to nothing more than 19.

They remembered Weyloran. Being torn apart piece by piece by the hostile nanites.

Finalla, having her armor hijacked and putting a bullet into her own head.

Colovance. His selflessness had saved the entire group. Blown to pieces.

But now was their victory lap. The thing they'd all been waiting for. Beyond that door would be the purest form of the technology. The usable, nonhostile form. One they could utilize. One that the Warmind had no control over. That was what would make their destiny. Their future. And it all started with the door's console.

The Warrior walked to the panel, holding the massive axe with one hand and his Ghost with the other. With bated breath, he watched as the Ghost examined the terminal, hacking through its security protocols while the four rhombus-shaped lights lit up from red to blue, and the door retracted.

Their weapons slowly raised, as the sight of the room had come to their vision. But nothing looked hostile within.

And as soon as they had been raised, they were put back down. They all exhaled a single breath in unison, celebrating their achievements.

But their victory would be short-lived.

Lord Timur stepped forward, past Saladin.

One by one, like children, they poured into the room and gawked at the scenery. Instead of it being the sinister red color they had been facing, the technology in this room was… blue. It was beautiful.

Saladin dropped the axe, looking up at the swirling nanites moving through the room.

Slowly, more poured out of two consoles to their left and right. It remained the bright glow of blue, but Saladin noticed something else.

The existing particles began to… fade. Their bluish color was slowly losing its glow, turning lighter and lighter but for some reason not getting white. It was… changing color.

He gripped the axe right off the ground where he had it, watching the movement of the nanites began to increase and become more spastic and unpredictable. Some of the nanites began to shift to brighter colors. Orange, turquoise, yellow, bright red, purple, white even. As he saw the mix of beautiful colors, the grip on the axe lessened and he found himself gawking at it again.

But yet again he found distrust in the nanites. They began to twitch out of order, swirled together. The 6 different forms began to swirl into one form. One that seeks its enemies; kill them. The type of nanites they had been facing during their crusade. It shifted into yet another menacing color.

Red.

"Get to the console! Now!" Saladin shouted. His voice was now feverish and tinged with fear.

Felwinter nodded, unholstering a shotgun and sprinting to the right console as Lady Skorri dashed to the one on the left. Simultaneously, they whipped out their robotic assistants and granted them access to hack the panels. It was then that the real fight had begun.

"Protect the Ghosts!" Saladin ordered. Though the SIVA hadn't fully morphed to be hostile, it was getting pretty damn close.

The Lords Jolder, Timur, and Gheleon rushed to helping Felwinter on the right console while Perun, Radegast, and Silimar rushed to the left.

Saladin stood in the middle, placing the helmet firmly back on his head once again and holding the axe in its form. "Kill the corrupted nanites. Stop the replication while you can and maybe we can gain control!" He shouted.

The nanites that existed when they entered were completely crimson, beginning to attack the Iron Lords and Ladies.

A large swarm dove to Felwinter, who dove out of the way and unleashed a single bullet with his shotgun into the horde. The bullets displaced the SIVA and it reverted its course, swirling around the console and making a dash to the Ghost.

Saladin watched as a wave of nanites flooded in front of him, making a large arc and crashing down on him, like a large dangerous tsunami wave.

He swung the fiery weapon and made contact with the wave while the flames surged through the horde, incinerating most of the nanites and causing the rest to part.

To Saladin's rear, a force tackled into his body.

When he landed on the ground and his axe fell from his hands, he was met with one of the many SIVA-infused Frames he had come across on his conquest. "Frames!" He shouted, just as a dozen more poured in through the entrance.

To this one, he pulled out a small but handy sidearm and pumped a single bullet into the center of it, causing nanites to pour out and the electrical components to disable it for a moment.

Saladin shoved the Frame off of him, retrieving the axe and swinging at it in one swift motion.

The frame was cut in two, leaving the nanites disintegrated but 2 more frames filling its place.

The Iron Lords combatted the Frames, dumping bullets into them or slicing them to pieces in Radegast's case. Lord Saladin retreated to the entrance, killing more Frames on his way and holding the entrance steady from any attempting to retreat or get through.

"I will defend the entrance! Kill off the Frames!" He shouted, witnessing Radegast's combat against two of them. Radegast swung low, while the Frame created a small SIVA blade and deflected the charge, swinging back with its own counterattack and swiping Radegast right across the chest.

He reared back just as another blade impaled him from behind. To that, he merely shoved the Frame off of him and went for another attack.

"Radegast!" Saladin shouted, but he couldn't go to help. He was preoccupied with the frames entering the complex.

This one severed the Frame from its core, killing it instantly while he turned to face the other threat. He swung his blade as he did so, causing an easy block by the Frame and another swing at the blade. This time, Radegast lost. The blade made the loudest clanging sound as it impacted the nanyte blade, and Saladin watched as the desperation poured into Radegast's form as his blade was destroyed. Cut into two pieces leaving nothing more than a stub and a hilt. Then, the frame collapsed and the nanites poured out of its body, entering Radegast's armor.

The blade…

Saladin felt a tear roll down his cheek, down his stained face.

Meanwhile Felwinter's side of things there was only nanites attacking. Continued blasts from Felwinter's shotgun, shots from Jolder's machine gun, and bullets from Gheleon and Timur's weapons kept the nanites at bay. The Ghost was still fine, hacking into the terminal and making a noticeable difference in the amount of SIVA being produced.

The room was a sea of red, with small bluish white particles floating around that had been untainted by Rasputin's protocol. It hadn't yet identified the enemy. It was progress, but Saladin knew it wouldn't be enough.

"We need to cut off Rasputin's hold on them!" The Iron Lord bellowed.

He changed his objective and found himself in front of the center console with his Ghost summoned and hacking into it. "Cut off any foreign connection. Including that with Rasputin. That's our only hope, our only way of controlling it for ourselves."

He rushed back into the room with his axe drawn, swinging it at another wave of the SIVA nanites and destroying that wave as well. He kept this up at every wave that approached him, slowly making his way to the left console when another figure smacked him to the ground from his right. The Iron Lord turned to face the enemy when he saw… Radegast.

"I'm sorry, brother." He heard the Lord mutter from under his armor. He heard the sorrow in his voice, felt it in his own chest.

He lifted his axe back up to see it deflected by the same SIVA blade Radegast had faced prior. It was also as if his movements weren't his own. Like the nanites were mimicking his from before, learning from his behavior and-

Saladin reflected another hit, shoving the axe into the chest of the Iron Lord while a small fire was set kindling across his chest.

The blade made a way to his chest, narrowly missing as Saladin deflected it and went for the instinctual right swipe.

The axe connected with Radegast's body unintentionally, sending his whole body ablaze while the SIVA particles burned with the Light-infused fire. He could hear his screaming from inside, imagining the pain and horror of being burned-smoldered within your own suit of armor.

Saladin rushed to the falling body of Radegast, gripping his chest plate and tearing it open, only to be exposed to a large wave of SIVA nanites that poured out and attached to Saladin's helmet, threatening to enter his body and take control like they had with Radegast's armor.

He fell back to the ground, tearing the helmet off as quickly as he could and sending it high into the air where he then gripped the axe and swung it at the airborne SIVA-infested helmet and connected with it. The helmet was then disintegrated and burned to ash on the spot, leaving Saladin defenseless on his head.

He threw himself to his feet, looking at the body of the Iron Lord that he had killed, seeing that he could not save his brother. The fire had already extinguished his life. Maybe if the helmet hadn't been an issue he could have saved him…

That was when he looked back on the chaos of the battle, seeing his brothers and sisters scrambling around trying to decontaminate themselves of the SIVA that he began to fester in their armor. Saladin watched the helpless Lords and Ladies claw at their helmets, only to lose full control and turn on each other.

He saw Felwinter throw Timur into a wall, sending his palm forward and a force that cracked his visor and sent blood flying from it, only to have a shotgun fire off a round right in his face.

Saladin then saw Gheleon tackle Felwinter, seeing the Hunter untainted by the SIVA, and pull a knife on his partner, sinking it deep into the chest plate of Felwinter. In a show of brotherhood, Gheleon left the knife away from the skin, but only planted it to rip the chest piece from Felwinter and attempt to get the SIVA out of the armor. Big mistake.

It was then that the nanites poured out, picking Gheleon up and releasing him higher into the air, right into the angry hive of SIVA that awaited him. Saladin could only imagine the screams and torment he was enduring. That was when he'd lost all hope.

His Ghost beckoned Saladin. "I've severed the link, but the existing SIVA is… following its directive."

Saladin let the words echo out, disappear into nothing. He knew that would happen. Deep down he knew that they could never contain SIVA. When given a directive, nothing would change its mind until the directive was complete. Until the Iron Lords were destroyed.

Seeing the loss of the battle, the loss of the crusade, Saladin shouted to his allies. "Iron Lords! Retreat!"

One by one, the remaining untainted Iron Lords turned their attention to him, one retrieving the Ghost from the console and sprinting to the exit.

As Saladin regained the hope that the Iron Lords wouldn't die off, more SIVA nanites dashed to their bodies, some reaching the exit.

Saladin diverted his attention from the console to face the escaping nanites, burning them to nothing with a few effortless swipes of his axe and ending that threat. He turned to face the door once again.

But it wasn't the same sight anymore. It was full of corrupted Iron Lords. The ones remaining were fighting the others, turned against each other. They were all doomed.

And there was Lady Jolder's face. She gave a smile to Saladin. One that warmed his heart. Convinced him that everything would still be okay. He believed it. Until she held up her hand, revealing a detonator.

"No!" He shouted, running to the door in an effort to keep her alive, but she'd made her decision.

He ran into the closing door for nothing. He reached it, fists slammed against the titanium entrance while hearing the silence from the other side. Absolute nothingness.

"Jolder…" He said to himself in a whisper, just as the hall had been reilluminated with white lights rather than the ominous darkness. "Jolder."

Maybe if I had been quicker. Faster. More aware. We knew the danger that this mission would uphold, but our crusade's goals blighted our foresight. We were blind. And I am the last. I have nothing to prove for but the deaths of my Lords and Ladies. Hundreds of them.

Saladin knew he couldn't let anyone in the complex from then on. They'd successfully severed the Warmind's connection with the device, meaning it was anyone's game. All of the SIVA in that complex had to be sealed off. All of the SIVA.

You are a Guardian, the shield of the Traveler and the might of the City. You protect those who are meek, offering your strength in an effort to combat the Darkness.

You have been taken.

Stop resisting, put down your light. Your missions are over, you are free. You will be powerful now.

What are your orders, what purpose do serve?

To destroy the darkness, to drive a stake straight through its heart and watch it beg for mercy. You serve your machine God, the light. But you are one in a thousand, replaceable. No one needs you. You are foreseeable. Counteractable.

You need to be unpredictable.

There is a knife for you. It's shaped like [betrayal]

Take up the knife. Kill those close to you. Take your new shape.

V113NNI070XMX001

AI-COM/RSPN: SOLSECCENT/SxISR/NONSYSTEMATIC

CONTACT CONTACT CONTACT

TRANSIENT. NULLSOURCE. NULLTYPE.

This is a SKYSHOCK ALERT.

Assets; signal designation PAST PHARSALUS BLACK EVENT. Event duration 15 POINT 8 SECONDS. Event footprint includes outbound signal. Designation=outside of system.

No hypothesis on event mechanism (CONSIDER ALAMO). Bootstrap simulation suggests event is DIRECTED and INNUMEROUS

Source blueshift suggests IMMINENT SYSTEM ENTRY.

Source carrier suggests NON-IMMINENT TERRA ENTRY

I am invoking PHASE SHIFT A-23

STOP STOP STOP V113NNI070XMX091

Somewhere, [unnecessary dialogue, some imperial [intranslatable] is [intranslatable] a message; word that these [Commanders] are [Missing, [Annuled] they have no more ranking [Commanders] in [System A-25]. [Subject] [Occurred, [ENEMY ENEMY ENEMY]... Savor it.

 **Author's Note: Right, so big unfoldings occurring right now. As you know, SIVA is going to be a threat (Even though it is out of the timeline) As well as two others. The order that these cryptic messages appeared is chronological (the order that they're going to be dealt with.) I've had this chapter written for quite a while, mainly as a destination. I wanted to get my story here at some point, and I figured I might as well publish it since I'm going to be inactive for longer than I'm comfortable with.**

 **The last two are the same threat, and props to whoever can figure it out. (Not that hard)**

 **As far as the last message goes, just know that the events of TTK haven't happened yet and that message was sent a long time before them. Say… Ta'aurc's death.**

 **Just a quick moment of thanks for all the viewers.**

 **Guest (Vanguard of SIVA) You were my first review. Ever. Thank you for that.**

 **Guest (Nullsilver2005) You encouraged me with that review. Thank you for that.**

 **ODSK: Thanks for all of the reviews, my friend. (I can call you that, can't I? Oh well) You've given me a lot of motivation for the story.**

 **Darktrainer and Guest thanks for tagging along with the story.**

 **Again, thank you all so much for the many views and reviews and constructive criticism while I write this story. (Honestly thought I'd have quit it by now but getting the recognition really does help.** Thanks **guys.)**

 **Before I get into my whole spiel or if it was too much just realize this was my second fanfic. Ever. So yeah. Thanks.**


	8. Chapter 5: Peaceful Introductions

"Nothing can make this meeting more boring." Cayde muttered to himself. He looked at Ikora and Zavala, watching as they engaged in a conversation with each other. He sighed.

 _Maybe they won't notice if I just take a step to the left…_

He tried. They noticed right away.

"What's your input on the situation, Cayde?" Ikora asked.

Cayde's eyes widened if that was possible, and he stumbled on his words. "Oh. Me? Why does my opinion matter?" He asked, making a _Psshhh_ sound with his lips and returning to the conversation. "I'm just a silly Hunter Vanguard."

"Exactly. You are the Hunter Vanguard. What do you think of the increased Fallen movement?" Zavala asked quizzically.

Cayde's expression returned to full focus, trying to give a serious answer for once. "I think that it's an issue. Yeah. Yup. We gotta get on that. I'll go get some Hunters and we can-" He said, beginning to walk away as Zavala snapped out.

"Cayde. We weren't even talking about Fallen movement. We were talking about troop movements on Venus. A resurgence of Vex activity popped up right outside of the Black Garden. Right here." Zavala pointed out on his map, right in front of where the Vault of Glass was on the Venus section.

"Well. Maybe if we got Guardians, Hunters, here and here we'd surround them. The environment around them ensures that they can only move here and here." Cayde said, pointing for possible movements.

Meanwhile, Ikora chuckled. "See what happens when you pay a small bit of attention? You come up with a good answer. At least make it seem like you're listening, Cayde."

"Fine. I'll listen to every small word, detail, and tidbit and make sure I give my opinion." Cayde said, giving his pout face and slumping down a little.

"Good. As for the Crucible, me and Shaxx came up with the conclusion that-" Zavala was interrupted.

Cayde butted in, saying, "It's actually Shaxx and _I_. Attention to detail, Commander." He said, giving a small two-finger salute to the Titan.

Zavala's face turned red with anger, and he held back the urge to slam an empowered first straight through Cayde's chest. Something he could do, if he wanted to. Not even Cayde doubted it.

But whatever supernatural force that was keeping him from doing just that was working. Zavala continued his sentence.

"We agreed that more training is needed in these newly quiet times, and-"

A loud crash interrupted his small speech, just as something had pierced through the walls of the Tower.

Another blast sent the table into shreds, throwing the Vanguards into a table as Cayde watched his map burn to pieces in slow motion.

"My map." He cursed silently.

His body impacted a wall, sending pain all throughout his body while he brought a hand to his handcannon.

Then, a legion of Cabal dashed through the hole in the wall, leaping from a transport ship and right into the Tower.

Cayde already had his sights raised, popping a Cabal's head open while he continued to unleash bullets on the army. "You destroyed my map, you brutes!" He shouted. "How am I supposed to navigate now?!" He shouted again.

 _Then, nothing._

Krastis threw his head forward, slamming it on a metal slab as he figured out where he was.

Around him was seats, and a dark interior. In one of the 12 seats was the Knight that had saved him prior, sitting with his head bowed with a Fallen Vandal at the helm. They were both technically enemies to Krastis, but at the same time they weren't. Those must have been the Guardians that had saved him.

He opened his mouth for a _thank you_ when the Vandal shouted something.

"He's up, Akkie."

As the words crept from the Vandal's mouth and began swirling in Krastis's barely-conscious mind, the Knight stood to his feet, also having to duck a little to avoid hitting the roof of the ship.

The Knight was at first intimidating, but didn't carry any weapons and had a… certain expression about him. He looked gentle, cautious even. But that wasn't to say he was weak. Krastis could see first hand he wasn't.

Krastis sat up as the Knight approached him, kneeling to his eye level while he helped the Psion up.

When he reached his feet, the ex-Cabal soldier began trotting to one of the interior seats and slumped down into one.

He had a massive headache.

The Knight approached him and spoke.

"I am Ak'tal. Your small Ghost friend told me your name is Krastis. Fitting name. It means 'keen' if you did not know."

His voice was deep and brooding, something you'd expect from a warrior of the Hive.

"And that small Vandal friend is Iksis. It means nothing."

Krastis began searching for the right words. Something to introduce himself and thank Ak'tal for saving him. "Thank you." He finally said. Ak'tal nodded. "We are together now. We do not belong in the Tower with the others. For a better term, we're-"

"Outcasts." Iksis cut off.

…

Ashur Mur stood in the Vanguard Hall, simply watching.

It was something he had done often. When he wasn't reading ancient scrolls or trying to unlock the mysteries of the universe he would stand in the Vanguard Hall and… watch.

The Vanguards found it creepy, save for Ikora. She knew what he was doing. He wasn't pondering a century-old myth, thinking about legends or enhancing his knowledge. It was one of his only times to stand and watch. No thinking, no research. Just peace.

And surprisingly the Vanguard Hall was the best place to do that. Even Cayde's occaisonal quips were barely noticeable after you got used to it. You could just stand at the edge of the glass plates, right next to a few sweeper bots and the small mysterious spire that Ashur still had no reason as to why it existed.

The balcony was the first place he had tried. It was quite, serene. But it just didn't have the atmosphere. The consistency. Every now and again, the loud and obnoxious sounds of a ship engine would distract his empty thoughts and make him think again.

The Tower North wasn't too bad either, but he preferred the Vanguard Hall for some reason. He found himself at it everytime, even though the Tower North was far more peaceful.

It was through his endless empty thought pool that his Ghost appeared in front of his face, materializing from nothing but a small gust of bluish light. "I think we should find Theriad and Marcus. It's about time for the debriefing of the mission." He reminded. Ashur cursed to himself silently. "So be it. Let's go."

They began walking back out the way they had came, reaching the small divide where two separate sets of stairs lead up to the Tower Balcony. Theriad would no doubt be in the hangar, and Marcus would most likely be with either Executor Hideo or The Speaker. He'd probably have to find Theriad first, due to his Hunter-like nature.

As he approached the divide, a familiar friend called out in front of him. Eris.

"Ashur." She spoke. Ashur looked at her and put a smile to his face. "Eris."

He continued walking, thinking about his times with the Hunter. She was once optimistic and outgoing. Fun to be around, but serious when it was needed. She was one of Ashur's first companions and one that he had treasured dearly. They had been through a great sum together, leading up to the point where she disappeared. Left Ashur. Took Eriana and Vell with her.

He didn't blame Eris for their deaths, nor did he blame anyone but the Hive. He knew grudges were dangerous, and quite frankly didn't see anyone at fault but the enemy. They were great friends to Ashur and always helped him in his time of need. The only thing he wished upon them was that he had been there to help them. When they needed it.

Eris merely served as a painful reminder that he was without his old friends-his first friends-anymore.

Then, the endless thoughts began crashing back to him. Flooding his mind. It was a Warlock's curse. Their quest for knowledge began to haunt them, until it was finally too much to think about. Until they gave up on being scholars and wisdom keepers. It was hell.

…

 **Author's Note: Terribly sorry for the wait on this especially short chapter. It was honestly rushed for how much time I had to do it. [Insert standard excuse here]**

 **Also if you got the Grimoire References, as well as the trailer references, you can tell kind of where I'm pointing this story. (with Eris leaving the Tower and the Fallen leaving entirely. All pointing at the Cabal war. If you want, watch My Name Is Byf's video on the Prelude to War. It was a good watch and gives more insight on the whole situation.)**

 **But really. With finals and other school-related issues popping up, I'm glad I was able to get this short (but sweet) chapter out to you guys. I am Monkey Pillows.**


	9. Chapter 6: The Tower

As the Skiff neared the atmosphere of the Tower, Iksis couldn't help but get stiffer. His hand prepared to jerk to the right, ready to blast out of the shot of the cannons, ready to retreat if needed.

The whirring of the engines disctracted him, as the odd-smelling interior soothed his nostrils with the familiar scent. To the others, it was probably foreign and obnoxious, but to Iksis this was his one true home.

He had been on Earth and on Mars. He'd been as far as the Reef before. But still, nothing changed with his familiarity with the Skiff. It was as if he had been riding in it his whole life, but that was not true. Only a small amount.

It was not everyday that a Skiff was welcomed at the Tower, and Iksis remembers his first time facing anti-air weaponry. During humanity's Collapse, around the first time the Fallen set foot on Earth. After chasing the Great Machine back to this planet, right after the events of Whirlwind, Iksis was aboard a Fallen Skiff that was shot down after entering the atmosphere. And he was ready for it to strike again.

His hands gripped the clutches harder, ready to jerk away. His mind focused on the one evasive maneuver, watching in the distance the sight of the cannons.

He'd also faced them during Twilight Gap. Of course, he had belonged to the House of Devils at that point and hadn't gone solo yet, so he followed them into battle.

He remembered their charge. The white light would pour out of the front barrel as if erupting from the inside. And when they shot, they tore apart almost an entire city block worth of ground. It was devastating.

Iksis debated telling his passengers of the dangers of the cannons, to brace if need be. But he remembered his paranoia. About how this is all just bad experiences in the past, and he wasn't going to get shot down.

The Fallen let out a short breath and relaxed a small portion. That was when the comms buzzed to life. They were coming through their Ghosts, all of them relaying information to their Guardians.

"Guardians. Land in the designated waypoint. We will greet you outside of your entrance." A stern voice ordered. As it had promised, a small waypoint was relayed to Iksis by his Ghost. Iksis said nothing in return.

That was when the full Tower had come into view. It was beautiful, as Iksis had noticed. The fog from before clouded his view of most of it, but now that he was in range he could see the glory of humanity. Why the Fallen were destined to lose the war. That was the first time he had seen the city's might. The symbol of resistance. The Tower.

If it weren't for a last-second realization, Iksis would have driven the Skiff straight into the wall of the Tower from being distracted. He veered the ship around and to the entrance of the hangar, the place that was marked.

He couldn't quite see the inside, though. From what he could tell it was mostly dark metal. He pushed the metal mass forward.

It maneuvered its way to a docking spot, where he shouted back to his cabin mates.

"Get ready." He said.

Instantly, he heard the Knight and the Psion clatter around, getting everything ready and preparing themselves for walking out of the Skiff. And for good reason. It was as if the entire force of the Guardians had lined up to see the three walk out of the Skiff. "Looks like we're popular." Iksis's Ghost quipped.

Iksis took out another deep breath, putting his wire rifle behind his back out of sight and a small shock pistol at his side, kind of in view. As for Krastis and Ak'tal, that was a different story. Ak'tal attempted to strap it to his side, but to no avail. The Knight looked up at Iksis, who gave him a shrug of his shoulders. The Vandal could see the uncomfort in Ak'tal's expression when he realized he had to carry his sword.

Krastis put the small blaster on his waste line, strapping it to a magnetic device that kept it in place and unhinged it when need be. With that, Iksis pressed down on the button that opened the Skiff's doors. "Here we go." He muttered.

The door came down from the side, acting as a drawbridge for the group while also acting as an exit. Iksis stepped forward first, right in front of the group of Guardians who were watching them.

Iksis kept walking forward, with Ak'tal and Krastis following suit. Each step caused a large surge of uneasiness between the three, as Iksis scanned the area.

In front of them was the main crowd of Guardians, waiting to greet them into the family of The Tower. But the Vandal had known to examine his surroundings, to be ready for anything. And so there he was, looking at the ledges and roofs and higher ground, ready to find something.

But before he could find anything they had reached the Tower entirely, into the large crowd of Guardians. In the front was a large stern one, of purple skin and red and white armor. Behind him was a robotic one, dressed in Hunter gear with a black cape to complete it. And to the right of him was a human, dressed in robes and Warlock regalia.

Before any words could be said, a figure from the back of the group stepped forward, saying, "You have all arrived. And in good shape, I see. I bid you a welcome stay at the Tower. But first, we must speak."

The figure had a soft voice and was dressed in all white attire. He looked at the three foremost Guardians and nodded, as the crowd behind them began to part and make way for the 7 of them.

"Follow." The figure said, walking through the path of separated Guardians and out of the hangar as Iksis, Ak'tal, Krastis and the other three followed.

They made their way to the main platform of the Tower, out in the open. Three spires in the center made their way above the other buildings on the balcony and stood prouder than the others.

To the far left of the Spires was a small block-like building, painted with a blue roof and some other decorations littered on top. And to their nearest was a small stand, one that looked like a peddler, with an Awoken standing behind it, fixing his hands on a small object.

They continued walking, down a flight of stairs and entering another Hall.

This one was especially magnificent and stood many decorations of war. Shields from the Cabal, Wire Rifles and skulls from the Fallen, and Hive Swords and blasters, complete with a few Thrall skulls.

It made the group feel uneasy to see their species be decorated. And they saw the man standing in front of the decorations. He backed away as they crossed, feeling that he had upset them. Iksis found it humorous.

Finally, they reached the end of the Hall and entered another small room. There, the three Guardians took their positions at the table while the Outcasts stood to wait for a small speech of some sort. The white-clad figure stepped past them, turning back to them and saying, "We have been awaiting your arrival for quite some time, even if the rest hadn't known. The Traveler has picked you three to enact a series of quests, each of them going against your native beliefs. You will need to be strong, courageous, brave."

"The Vandal." He went on. "A deadly assassin and trained rogue, master of deception. You will be the first of our challenges. Though we cannot see this threat immediately, it is one that is foreboding and imminent. You will need to be the steadfast one of the group. The knife that strikes silently. You will need to be the swaying word of the group, the manipulative song that moves entire armies. You are not merciless, though. Your beauty comes from your wit. From your humor. Your morality. " He finished his sentence with emphasis on the last word, then turning to Ak'tal and going on more.

"The Knight. The bulk broadsword of the group. You are the hammer, you will strike your enemies with no mercy, with pure power. Your job is to dispatch entire battalions, without mercy and without fail. But you are not brutal. You are not a barbarian. There is a beauty in your destruction. A certain elegance. I have foreseen your capacity for care." He paused for another moment, turning to Krastis this time lightening his tone.

"The Psion. Master of the temporal energy. You are the mind of the group. The strategist. You see ways in and out of battle, manipulating advantages and turning anything into one. You are also the glue to this group. The final say. The beauty I see in you is your intellect. Your ability to master the battlefield with your mind. There is nothing quite like it. Comparatively I see this in Warlocks."

His voice was soft and small, but it carried. It struck every member of the group, including Ak'tal. His thoughts swirled around his head much like a tornado.

 _I am evil._

You are not.

 _I have killed Guardians._

And now you have joined them.

 _I will do no good_.

You have already saved one's life.

 _I am a traitor._

To an evil cause. You are in the right.

 _I am evil._

As he was thinking the thoughts, three more figures busted in the room. One, the one in front, was wearing similar garb to the first Warlock. The second was obviously a Hunter. He had that kind of attitude to him. And the third was big and bulky. A Titan.

The Vanguards turned their attention to them. "Ashur. Theriad. Marcus. You are going to be joining these… new editions." The Titan spoke. They glanced at the three unorthodox Guardians, as if assessing if they were a threat or not.

There was an awkward pause in the room. The newly entered Guardians looked the others up and down, head to toe. Krastis could tell that they hadn't thought they would be sent here for this. He could also notice their tension when entering the room. The Hunter's hand twitched nervously near his handcannon strapped at his side, making Krastis feel a little uneasy.

The first stepped forward. A Warlock. He turned to Iksis and said "I am Ashur. A Warlock. Nice to meet your acquaintance." As the other two followed suit. The second, the Titan, spoke. "I am Marcus." And the third stepped forward. "I am Theriad."

Iksis looked at Krastis and Ak'tal, then saying. "I am Iksis. I don't really know _what_ I am." Then, Ak'tal stepped forward. "I am Ak'tal. My situation is very similar to that of Iksis's." And finally, Krastis spoke. "I am Krastis."

That was when the white-dressed began to speak again. "You three are not standard Guardians. This is obvious. You are… something else. Each of you is of a different designation. As the light evolves, so do its bearers. Iksis." He paused. Iksis turned his attention to the speaker, putting his hands behind his back as a sign of respect. "The Envoy. The Traveler has bestowed you with Arc superiority. You are adept in this area, for you can manipulate Arc power to your advantage. You will be capable of utilizing and empowering the area around you, boosting all others and yourself. From this day forward, you are no longer a lone wolf, but fight in a pack."

Then he turned to Krastis. "You are the Warden. Capable of using solar power to fight your enemies. The environment is at your disposal, turn it into a solar maelstrom. Bend it at your will."

Finally, he spoke to Ak'tal. "And you are the Reclaimed. The Traveler has been very delicate with your creation. It knew that you would be large part of our fighting force and bestowed you with Void power. That sword of yours no longer utilizes the dark. It is a light conduit, capable of causing a ripple in space-time. Opening a portal into the void and destroying all enemies trapped within."

"All of you are important. Equally." He went on. "You will have to face old allies in combat, but as enemies. Each of you will have a triumph to overcome, starting with you." He pointed at Iksis. "Your threat is the most imminent and foreboding. You will need much training with so little time, but you will prevail. Heed my warning, Guardian."

And with that, the white-clad speaker turned to face the other way, walking out of the Hall and leaving the Outcasts with the Vanguards and the three newly-met Guardians.

"Umm. Yeah. What he said." The Hunter said. He was a part of the leadership, as Iksis could tell. But he didn't know his name.

As he grazed on that thought a little longer, the second silence was halted by the big Titan speaking. "I am the Titan Vanguard, Zavalla. I will be designating you on your missions as well as being your chief commander. To my left and your right is Ikora Rey, the Warlock Vanguard." He gestured to her. She held a hand up, and waved it a slight amount. He turned his attention to the Exo. "And that is Cayde." He spat. With that, the Exo gave a small two-finger salute.

"As the Speaker had mentioned, the Fallen is the most foreboding threat. We have caught increased movements from the Devil House in the Cosmodrome. I am sending you three," He ordered, pointing at Iksis and his group. "To the Cosmodrome's Devil House to investigate the movement. It may be nothing, but better we prepare for a threat than miss it entirely. As for you three," Zavalla gestured to the other three Guardians this time. "I have a special assignment for you. Report to me after you get our new recruits gear and instructions." And with that, Zavalla waved them all off, as the other three Guardians began to walk out of the hall. Krastis, Ak'tal and Iksis followed right behind.

The words from the large Titan rattled in Iksis's skull. He mentioned something about Devil movement and knew how meticulous their house was. It scared him a little to hear about their supposed movements, as the Devils were usually more reserved and laid-back. Unless there was something to move for.

As he began to think about it, all houses were like that. They only moved when they had to when they found something of use or found an advantage. With the Fallen numbers thinning daily, they had no choice but to be resourceful. Moreso than before.

They reached the outside once more without saying anything or exchanging conversations at all, but that changed as soon as the Hunter opened his mouth again.

"Right. I...uh… don't know where to get you guys weapons. So I guess we're all just going to have to pitch in?" He asked, gesturing to the group.

"That isn't going to be necessary," Krastis said. He stepped forward, unstrapping his slap rifle as well as a few more small weapons to show that he was fully armed. Ak'tal did the same, showing his sword while Iksis unhooked several dozen weapons littered on his person. The Guardians counted about 6 shock pistols, 3 wire rifles, 5 Shrapnel Launchers and about 20 plus shock blades all scattered on the floor.

Of course, Iksis had to gloat about his hidden weapons, so he was still uncovering various armaments from hidden places. A few knives from his boots, another pistol buried on the inside of his cape, a few shrapnel launchers.

When he thought he was done, he patted himself up and down again, feeling for any more weapons as the other 5 marveled at how many weapons one could possibly fit on their person. Iksis stopped searching for weapons and said, "Yeah I think that about covers it."

Theriad nodded, then saying "Well nevermind that. I guess I can show you where we keep our ships? Maybe hook you up?" He started again. Iksis pushed the thought away, talking about his own Skiff. Theriad nodded once more, then trying for something else.

"Well, I guess that about covers it then. I don't really have anything else to hook you up with… you seem kinda set already so…" His voice trailed off, as Ashur began to speak. "You will need some type of training, however." He insisted.

Krastis this time interjected. "We are all well-oiled machines of war. We can kill. And if we need it, we can focus on taming our powers when we return from this… reconnaissance mission."

The groups said nothing and awkwardly exchanged glances. Then, Marcus clapped his hands together. "Then I guess that settles it. We'll see you some other time? I'm not so good at goodbyes." He admitted.

"I suppose so," Ak'tal spoke. After he said it, the group seemed surprised at the sound of his voice. It was definitely dark and brooding but still not something you would expect from a hive Knight. But regardless, that was the final exchange between the two until Iksis and the group walked to their ship.

…

"Well, that went alright." Theriad chimed. Ashur looked at him with slight confusion. "What do you mean?" "Sarcasm." He answered. Then, Marcus said, "I do believe that they would be valuable in combat. Having them on our side is definitely going to make things easier."

To that, Ashur merely quipped, "I would hope so." While the thoughts circled his head.

The thoughts. The bane and reason for his existence. Why did they have to torment him? Drive him to the point of insanity? With the Outcasts' arrival, he had nothing but thoughts in his mind. And if he hadn't had so many already occupying his brain, it would have been acceptable.

 _Too much to think about in one setting._

"Alright let's get back to the Vanguard Hall to see what that commotion was about," Theriad suggested. Marcus agreed and they began to walk back to the Vanguards.

…

"You dare tempt me? Sway my aspirations? I can crush your form in 30 different ways, measly follower. If you dare defy me you will meet an untimely fate." The Archon shoved the Vandal out of the way, walking forward.

The warnings he had received from his group were nothing but mere annoyances. "Soon I will be more powerful than any Kell who has lived. They will bow to us, worship us. Do you not want this? Do you not want our conquest to end successfully?" He spat back, looking at the Vandal who was now on the ground, looking at him in fear.

They had finally reached the chamber where they would be transformed. Where they would unleash hell on the world. Finally get revenge.

He stood in front of the door, ready to open it manually when the air lock decompressed, illuminating bluish lights around the diamond-shaped door's frame.

With a short shudder, the door slid open and revealed the contents inside. Vandals put their wire rifles to their eyes, ready to fire at a moments notice. Dregs unsheathed shock blades and pistols, and Captains raised Shrapnel Launchers and Cannons. All while The Archon stood and did nothing. Simply staring at the door's opening.

And that was when they caught sight of what was inside-nothing.

The Archon stepped forward.

He then noticed several bodies on the floor, all dead and decrepit. They had the form of a Guardian, covered and painted with a small glowing red light. The technology. The Archon knelt down to one of the dead bodies and examined it.

It was pulsating in a mysterious pattern. The Archon then stood and commanded his soldiers into the room. "Find the control panel." He ordered.

That was when he saw the destruction of the room. Shards of debris were crumbled on the small mosh pit below, the glass lining the wall was cracked and smeared with explosion marks, and two terminals appeared to be damaged.

"Check them." He commanded. Two dregs split off, examining the pillars and confirming their status. "They appear to have functionality." One informed. The same was the case with the second pillar.

"Then we start the process." The Archon informed.


	10. Chapter 7: SIVA

Snow blistered Saladin's face as he trudged through it.

His boot ended up dragging more in front of him with each step, each one getting increasingly difficult. Meanwhile his pack navigated through it with ease. Each of their steps were precise, planned.

The Iron Lord didn't mind the snow, however. What distracted his mind was the dead silence. The only sound that was present was the crackle of his torch, sparking about in random directions. That was when he reached the small brazier he had set up. It wasn't anything fancy, fashioned out of sticks and some fuel. But it would have to do.

That was their lifeline; the fire. It dated all the way back to humanity's beginning and would follow them until their end. But to an Iron Lord, the fire was what fueled their weapons, what kept them going. They would draw the power from the flames and empower the weapons.

The Lord looked up at the wall. Desolate. Empty. But it was torn open by an unknown force.

 _You know better than that. This is nothing unknown._ Saladin said to himself. He would hope it wasn't a familiar threat, but it was looking to be the latter.

The wolves kept walking forward, to the massive schism in the wall when Saladin noticed something in the distance.

Beady red eyes, staring daggers into Saladin and his pack. Right in front of him. "Halt!" he shouted at the wolves. Instantaneously, the wolves stopped and perked their heads up. They began smelling their environment when they detected the threat. They started growling at their enemies.

Then, one by one, the eyes began to step out into the open, becoming forms. Fallen.

Their bodies were modified. Along most of the Fallen's torso was a red vine-like substance almost consuming them. Their legs were gone, replaced with pegs of some sort and their weapons were surging with red nanytes.

"SIVA." Saladin said to himself.

The growls from the wolves intensified as Saladin raised a large empowered battle axe, his Ghost materializing a helmet on Saladin's crown.

"Charge." He ordered silently as he ran to the crowd of Fallen.

He was met with a shock dagger, and he had deflected it just as fast as it had appeared and shoved the blunt side of his axe into the Fallen's head, killing it. He swiped to his right and incinerated another 5 dregs, just as a shot ricocheted off of his back.

He used his form to slam straight into the culprit. A Vandal with a rifle raised.

Saladin's blow managed to knock the helmet right off of the Fallen and tossing his form into the snow ahead. A shock knife was buried inside his back, but didn't send any pain. As Saladin noticed, his armor was plated and thick.

Before he had time to respond to the attack, a Sabre was swung at his form at the front. Saladin raised an axe at the blade as he felt the blade behind be removed, following the sound of a wolf snarling.

The axe threw the sword right out of the Fallen's hand, just as Saladin swiped again at the Fallen himself.

As the onslaught continued, a large rumbling was coming from deep inside the wall's tear. 6 stomps at a time.

Saladin backed up as his wolves continued growling at the threat, as the majority of the Fallen began to back up as well.

Then, a mighty roar. From the same place he heard the stomping.

After the roar, a presence. Saladin saw what was making the sounds and the intimidation. It was a six-legged Fallen. Infested with the nano-tech. He began to stare it up and down, examining a weakness for the Fallen, but could find none.

Regardless, he would have to find one during the battle. The mechanical Eliksni began to charge Saladin, forcing a defense from the last Iron Lord.

One of the metal legs struck right in front of him, causing Saladin to jump back and counterattack. He swung the axe as hard as he could, trying to pierce through the metal but the axe itself merely bounced back, right before it had even touched the leg. "What…"

The Fallen smacked Saladin with another leg, throwing the axe out of his hand and causing Fallen to begin to attack his exposed form.

One dreg stabbed down at the lord, only to be met by one of his wolves ripping the head clean off with a mighty clench of its jaw.

Saladin took off after the axe again, shouting into his comms for backup. "Shiro!" He pleaded.

The Iron Lord slid through the snow and gripped the axe again.

"What is it?" A voice boomed back. Saladin then informed Shiro of the circumstance. "I need immediate backup. Ping my location and get a trace on me." Saladin ordered. "Got it. On my way."

That was when the mechanical being began to… laugh. It bumrushed Saladin and his wolves, grabbing Saladin with a swipe of its hand and holding him close to his face, shouting right at the Iron Lord.

"Bah! You think your Iron Temple is safe anymore? That is where you are wrong. Sorely mistaken. You will not last any longer." The Fallen spat.

Saladin began to wriggle in the Fallen's grasp, trying to free himself but the grip just got tighter. He could feel the SIVA around him begin to nestle into his armor, as if trying to get a hold on him from the inside and tear him apart. He wouldn't let it.

He began to shake more violently, still trying to free himself as the attacker began to laugh more.

That was when bullets began to pepper the mechanical spider-like Fallen, causing a small amount of distress in his actions.

He began to back up, as Saladin's Ghost adjusted his ship's course to pick up Saladin and make a retreat. That was when a projectile was thrown.

He looked at it. A red ball of surging SIVA tech, almost unstable. He could tell it was dangerous, as the very form seemed to be waiting to explode. It surged and moved in mid-air, glowing a bright white as it made its way to Saladin.

Having no choice but to try and counter the attack, Saladin leaped after the object and caught it in his hands. The tech didn't seem dangerous to him while he was holding it. It had a soft feel to it, as well as a warm energy.

All around him, shock pistols and wire rifles attempted to land on Saladin, and some did. They merely scuffed his armor, however, and caused no real imminent damage.

That was when the mechanical Fallen raised a weapon to Saladin. That one would probably hurt.

"The ship is ready!" The voice of his Ghost shouted.

"Transmat me on!" He shouted back. It was then that he disposed of the bomb by tossing it back at the Fallen, aiming at the larger one.

As his form was rematerialized onto his own ship, he noticed something odd about the bomb's reaction on the Fallen.

It caused the SIVA particles around it to shake violently, some disappearing. It appeared to have damaged the force field around the enemy. That was its weakness. The bombs. SIVA was dangerous to itself.

That was when his form was teleported into the pilot seat in his ship.

The Iron Lord could feel the bullets peppering the bottom of his ship, causing small vibrations and no doubt posing a threat to the ship itself. Before any more could damage it, he pounded the thruster and took off with blazing speed.

…

"You know, I've never seen someone carry that many weapons. I knew the Fallen were scavengers, but that's a bit excessive, don't you think?" Krastis asked. Iksis turned his head away from piloting the ship and faced the Psion. "Would you rather die with no weapons in hand, or die with all of the weapons?" And with that, he turned back to driving.

Meanwhile Ak'tal gripped his sword tighter and Krastis held his blaster a bit closer. It was the only weapon they had, their only tool.

"Approaching the landing zone." Iksis informed. Krastis nodded to himself, standing with Ak'tal to face the opening doors. They felt the Skiff turn to the right and slowly make its way to the ground below, parking completely as the doors opened up and the three began to pour out of it.

Outside was calm and cold. Snow hit the ground slowly as they all examined their surroundings.

The Skiff had landed on a barren ledge, overlooking most of the Cosmodrome. Old abandoned and rusty shacks littered the Earth's surface. Beyond them, more snow and old artifacts of the Golden Age were stowed away.

"So this is it." A Ghost chimed out. It was Ak'tal's.

In front of them there was a slight dip in the terrain. It was as if a ravine had been crafted, and there stood a bridge of some sort.

The bridge of course was completely maimed and destroyed, leaving the group no chocie but to trudge through the dip and possibly be ambushed.

"I don't like it. I'm reading minor head signatures all around this area, as if a large group of scouts are just… watching us. But the Fallen stronghold is just across that ravine." Another Ghost informed.

Krastis began looking for other options. He found none. All of them were vulenrable to attack and ambush, so they would just have to go with what they had.

"I say we split up. Akkie and I will go across and you stay behind and give us sniper support." Krastis ordered. Iksis nodded and pulled out a wire rifle, preparing a magazine of bolts and giving them the 'go ahead'.

Ak'tal raised his sword up so it was resting on his shoulders, allowing it to be swung in a moment's notice. Krastis raised his rifle and began traversing down the hill.

"The signatures are getting more packed together, as if more are grouping up. I'd suggest moving faster." Krastis's Ghost alerted. Krastis took the advice, rushing through the snow and kicking a majority of it up in his wake.

As he moved, so did Ak'tal. And apparantly the signatures. "They're getting closer!"

Then, a single bolt from a wire rifle echoed throughout the space. It was as if the world stood still, just before it had all erupted.

"Run!" Iksis screamed through Ak'tal and Krastis's comms. They took no hesitation in shoving both feet forward in the snow and rushing as bolts from wire rifles hit to their left and right.

…

Ashur landed first. Then came Theriad and Marcus. Each of them stuck close together as they watched their ships fly overhead, right into orbit where they would wait for pickup.

Of course, Theriad had to say something about the blistering cold on Felwinter Peak. "Last time I felt this cold was… wait. I've never felt this cold."

"Then we should get moving." Marcus suggested. The rest obliged.

They walked on the top of a mountain, making their way through the white snowstorm that was on them. It made everything hard to make out and led to Theriad almost tripping down the side of the mountain. It wasn't until long that they made their way to a small lift complex. They could see it out in the distance, with a few barely made out figures standing at it. Fallen.

"Theriad, can you get a shot off?" Ashur asked. Theriad shook his head, explaining, "No. Can't see anything through this maelstrom. We could probably get closer, however. I doubt the Fallen can see us."

Ashur followed his suggestion, crouching down closer to the snow and moving with care.

Soon enough, they approached the relatively large group of Fallen and sank down into a snowbank to avoid being seen. "There's no way we can engage all of them, especially with the snow. But if we can get closer, we can pick them off. They're at the same disadvantage we are with this much snow." Theriad said, partly shivering in his words.

Ashur sought through his plan, finding it was best for their engagement. He was the critical thinker of the group, usually the one coming up with the plans. Something must have shifted with Theriad that lead him to coming up with the plans and...well… actually listening to his head for once.

Theriad was usually headstrong and brutish in a sense. He had no filter and didn't care about what the repurcussions of his actions were. The typical Hunter.

Then there was Marcus. He used his strength for the well-being of the group, rather than just his own self-preservation. He preferred to support the group rather than obliterate the enemies right off.

They slid down a snowbank as silently as they could possibly manage, reaching the bottom with a large pile of snow that had built up from their slide. Theriad peaked out above it to see if any of the Fallen had been alerted. None had.

He reached to his side and pulled out a Hakke sidearm, complete with outlandish green and blue coloring and a small muzzle attachment that silenced his shots.

Marcus and Ashur soon held the same pistol in their hands, their Ghosts transmatting it into their palms after requesting it.

"I can probably get a Tether out." Theriad suggested. "No. Don't. This is just a greeting party. You're gonna need it for the real thing." Ashur combatted. Then, marcus pulled out a simple suppressing grenade. It could blind their enemies and confused them, and it would prove useful here.

Gathering a small wad of snow with his hands and forming a ball out of it, tossing the snowball to a nearby Fallen who turned instantly.

From there, Marcus tossed the suppressing Grenade into the dead center of the group while the Guardians crouched away from the blast.

When the explosion went off with a relatively silent sound, the three dove from cover and began mopping up targets with their sidearms.

Theriad put a bullet straight through one's skull while Ashur focused energy to snap one's neck, leaving Marcus to beat a Vandal's head in.

Without much effort and time, the Fallen were dispatched and the group was free to move to the lift's building without resistance.

Inside the building it was barren of snow, but still cold. There wasn't any doors or the like to keep the snow out, but miraculously it stayed on the outside.

Towards the edge of the tram building, the dropoff the size of a mountain fall awaited them. Right in front of the fall.

The three climbed into the ancient looking tram as the Hunter pressed the button.

"This doesn't feel right at all." Ashur's Ghost chimed. It was right. The old rusted look of the tram wasn't convincing, but when you finally stepped inside and feel the rusted tram sinking lower it makes for a seemingly unsafe trip.

Finally, after a few seconds of the motor began to squeak into gear, the tram began moving at a snail-like pace.

They followed the tram through a small canyon of sorts, through two narrow sections of the mountain. The path looked pretty straightforward as far as the three could tell. It was just a simple tram to the top of the Peak.

As they waited for the slow tram to move faster, they began a conversation.

"Felwinter Peak, huh? What's Saladin and the other Iron Lords doing during this?" Marcus asked.

"That… is a story I must tell you about at a later date. All that matters now is securing Felwinter Peak." A voice boomed through. It was Saladin Forge himself.

"But if this is so important, why aren't the Vanguard protecting it?" Ashur's Ghost chimed in. "I have you three here, don't I?" Saladin asked. "That, and this place and its well-being is my responsibility. Not theirs." He continued.

The group all looked at each other but nonetheless remained quiet.

That was when the grinding of the tram began to raise in volume. It began to shake and jerk violently, throwing the three Guardians all around the inside.

The group was thrown to the right when they reversed their momentum, throwing themselves forward again to maintain balance but it was all to no avail. The front half of the tram snapped clean off, severing its connection to the wire and sending the group off balance through the tram.

"Jump!" One of the Ghosts ordered. That was when the door of the tram slid open, beckoning for the group to tumble out of it.

Marcus and Ashur threw themselves out as fast as they could, leaving Theriad to retrieve his Ghost and leap out.

The tram disconnected from the track and threw Theriad to the ceiling of the cart, disorienting him as the tram fell to the canyon floor.

He focused energy from the air around him to create a solid surface, leaping off of the air particles and doing so again, just as he reached a ledge that he gripped with all of his force.

Theriad was hanging from nothing but a single handhold, waiting for one of his partners to retrieve him. Soon enough, Marcus helped Theriad up and the group began scanning for more options to get to the Peak.

To their front was the beginning of a ledge. It looked to be able to scale across the whole mountainside. It would no doubt have another path for them to climb up.

"Let's go." Ashur said. Carefully, they kept to the wall of the ledge to avoid their inevitable deaths if they slipped. They inched and slowly lurched their way to an opening, a place where the wall of the ledge stoped and opened up to an upward hill they could climb up and possibly reach the Iron Temple.

They continued up yet another hill, reaching the top of it and seeing that the entrance to the Iron Temple was right ahead of them. A large set of double doors stood ahead of them. The insignia on it was two hands brandishing a large battle axe of some sort, complete with engravings all over the door.

Theriad walked to the door, giving it a slight push and opening it.

The hinges creaked and Marcus had his gun up with Ashur, ready for anything on the other side of the door.

Of course, there was nothing right in front of them, but a large crashing sound was eminating from somewhere in the distance.

They crossed the makeshift bridge ahead of them fashioned from ropes and wood, reaching the courtyard for the Iron Temple and seeing their enemy straight ahead.

"It can't be…" Ashur muttered. Marcus himself backed away in shock at what he had just saw. Only Theriad stepped forward.

"Sepiks." He silently whispered.

"That's not possible." Saladin echoed. That was when the large servitor turned to them, facing them from the high ground of the top of a set of stairs. "We're spotted!" Ashur shouted. That was when a large blast of the Servitor's energy was shot, landing right where the Guardians were just standing.

This blast was red, however. And it seemed to have been more powerful. "What was that?" Theriad asked. Saladin answered. "I'm afraid that is SIVA. Defeat Sepiks, now!" He ordered.

Theriad took out a sniper rifle, landing a few shots right in the Servitor's eye.

The machine took a dash to the right, shooting another red blast as the group ran from it. "We need the high ground!" Ashur analyzed. Theriad nodded, rushing forward in an attempt to blitz the servitor off of the higher level of the stairs.

What he didn't account for was the numerous Fallen that would appear, seemingly climbing right up the mountainside or jumping off a higher ledge.

Theriad raised a knife, jamming it straight through the Fallen's skull as it fell.

But the knife encountered more resistance than it usually would. The fallen also seemed to be made of something else. It was crimson in color, and it wrapped itself all around the Fallen's body. It seemed to be modifying him, but at the same time consuming him. Like the technology was just using them as a host… like they were the parasite.

"What the hell?" Theriad asked, pausing during the battle while Ashur and Marcus did the same, gawking at the new enemy.

"Do not pay it attention! Kill the Fallen and Sepiks! It must not escape!" Saladin boomed. Theriad snapped back to work instantly, mopping up the other Fallen that held him at gunpoint, rushing back up the stairs.

Every so often, a Fallen would leap down right in front of him, only to be thrown off the side.

The Hunter was making progress up the stairs while Marcus and Ashur focused their efforts on the Fallen that were appearing, but not on Sepiks.

Theriad reached the last level before the higher ground. He had to think of a plan to get Sepiks down, but he hadn't all this time. He was simply standing in the open with no real means of getting the servitor to move.

"Marcus! Ashur! Move up the-" Theriad started.

He was cut off from a blast hitting right in front of him, throwing him straight into a wall and undoubtedly breaking some of his bones.

He looked up just in time to see another blast coming straight for his form, with all intents of hitting this time.

At the last second, Theriad threw his body forward and the eye blast smacked into the rock wall behind him. Small pebbls and gravel flew on him, but he was more focused on the servitor at the moment.

"Theriad! We're being overrun! We need that high ground, now!" Ashur shouted.

He spared a moment to look at the two. They were holed up in Marcus's Ward of Dawn, with shotguns at the ready for the massive amounts of Fallen that were surrounding them.

Before he looked back, he saw Ashur summon the electricity within, unleashing a shockwave of energy into the group.

Theriad raised a gun to the Servitor's eye, just as another blast shot out at him.

With a split second of reaction, Theriad threw his body to its side, the impact of hitting the ground releasing his gun from his hands.

He didn't want to take the time to retrieve it, but instead went to Plan B.

Summoning all of the energy he could possibly manage, he drew the void bow he'd become so familiar with, loosing an arrow at the Servitor as he leaped to it.

From there, he pulled his knife and let the electricity surging through his body empower it, as he lashed the Servitor's eye maliciuosly.

He heard the screams and emergency sounds of the Servitor ring out, just as he began to channel solar power with the last bit of strength he possesssed.

Forming a gun made straight from the sun's rays, he plunged it into a small chink in the Servitor's armor, pulling the trigger and sending a blast straight through the Ether collector.

But the Servitor didn't die, it instead took advantage of Theriad's weakened state and dove straight to the ground with the Hunter attached to it.

The metallic object released the Hunter on the ground, preparing a shot from its eye for it while Theriad remained motionless.

From there, the sound of machine guns peppering metal took to his ears, and the Servitor turned its attention.

Marcus and Ashur made it to the top of the stairs, unleashing all they could on the Servitor as it backed up slowly, unable to make out another shot on the group.

Deciding that the Servitor had enough, it simply disappeared, leaving a tainted transmat materialization in its wake.

Theriad only heard mumbles of what had happened. Everything was white sound until that point.

"Where is it going?"

"Sensors report the Cosmodrome. Devil's lair."

"That's where Iksis and his fireteam is."

"Go! Now! We've lost three Guardians today if you do not make haste!"

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey guys. I'm not dead. I actually got SUPER carried away with this chapter. It was originally going to take a different direction, but I decided to keep it the way it is.**

 **Anyways, this was going to be super long, like even moreso than it is now, but then I realized just how long this chapter was itself and how long it's been since I updated. I used to be on the first page of Destiny fanfics, but I got shafted to the second place from my inactivity.**

 **Don't forget to review, especially with critiques and suggestions.**

 **Also, how would you guys feel about a seperate storyline for Ashur, Marcus, and Theriad? Kind of like a prequel to this series about each one's beginnings and where they started as a fireteam, including the downfall of Crota, destruction of the Vault of Glass, and another one I've been thinking of.**


	11. Chapter 8: Sepiks Prime

"Krastis! Duck!" Iksis called out. The Psion did as he was told, narrowly avoiding the slice of Fallen Sabers. Iksis then raised his wire rifle and pierced through the Fallen's skull, killing his former advesary instantly.

From there, he turned and pelted other Fallen throughout the room. A Captain holding Ak'tal up at gunpoint, a Dreg stabbing at a chink in the Knight's armor, another Vandal trying to pierce Krastis's skull with another wire rifle.

They all fell with ease, leaving Iksis to himself and a small party of dregs.

The room they were fighting in was previously the holding room for the Devils' Prime Servitor, until three Guardians decided to lay waste to it. Iksis was there. He remembered their fight, how he narrowly avoided death from one of the Guardians.

They were backing up into the room they had first entered, almost being overrun by the shear amount of Devils there were.

"You know, for having the Devils on the watch list for being more _active_ you'd think there'd be less in their base of operations." A Ghost called out. Iksis paid little heed to the small robot's words, but instead sliced off the heads of his lessers.

He smacked a sword straight into a Captain's, snapping Iksis's immediately. Iksis was resourceful and quickly pulled a shrapnel launcher, unleashing a large load of its ammunition into the Fallen's chest.

As it fell, another Vandal tackled Iksis, only to be drained of its life from Ak'tal's sword. He rolled up, pulling a shock pistol and downing a crowd of dregs, then throwing it to the side. From there, he pulled to more sabers, swiping at his enemies' feet and pulling out another wire rifle.

He killed as many as he could with one magazine, swapping to yet another shrapnel launcher and repeating the process for as long as he could.

He was running dangerously low on weapons, however. He was down to his last wire rifle, last two shock pistols, and last shock blade. No sabers.

He cursed himself for being so irresponsible with his weapons when silence struck him.

As he was reaching for a knife, he noticed that the Fallen had cleared out. They had all been killed, were hiding or ran away. It was ominous.

There was only the creaking of metal to comfort them, if it even could. One of the Ghosts stepped forward, declaring, "I'm detecting… a transmat! It could be a Guardian."

But it wasn't.

…

"Angel. Where is Sepiks?" Ashur asked, crafting his words to not disturb the Ghost. She tended to do that often, be offended. Like it was his mother or something.

But the Ghost spat back coordinates, booming them into the comms for all of his fireteam to hear.

As they all fixed in the coordinates, Ashur prepped his weapons. A scratched up Suros Scout Rifle, mint condition Omolon Fusion Rifle, and a Hakke Machine Gun. All in perfect working condition. When he finished, he slammed his thruster forward and set his course to the Devil's lair.

"The Outcasts are dealing with Sepiks as we speak. Make haste, as they will not last in there forever, especially against Sepiks." An unfamiliar voice ordered. "Um, I'm sorry, but who are-" Theriad began. "The name's Shiro. I'm a Vanguard Scout, but that's not important. What _is_ important is that you listened to what I just said." He replied. "Got it. We're going as fast as we can. Ghost, can you patch me into their comms?" Ashur asked. Marcus replied this time, saying, "I already tried. It's as if the Devils set up a jamming system. They want us to go in there."

 _It's a trap._ Ashur thought. But it didn't matter. For as little as he knew the Outcasts, they didn't deserve to die because of Ashur's Fireteam fuckup.

"Right. First thing's first, we gotta get in the lair. We may not have comms, but six Guardians versus one Servitor is an unfair battle." Ashur reminded them. "Right, but I highly doubt one Servitor is all that awaits us once we show up." Theriad spat.

As much as the Warlock hated to admit it, Theriad was right. Though that usually wasn't like him.

"What caused you to be so calculating? I mean, ever since we got to Felwinter's, you've been nothing but a strategist." Ashur asked. He could hear Marcus chuckling in the background, and could almost feel Theriad's face go red.

"Uh… I dunno. This is… like… fun, you know? Strategizing." Theriad retorted, almost choking on the last word. Ashur raised an eyebrow, then asking, "It isn't because of Aman-"

"NOPE! No. Not because of her. Nuh-uh. Not one bit." He said, much too fast for Ashur or Marcus to comprehend. It _was_ because of her.

"Anyways… Approaching the drop zone, losers." Theriad said, just as Ashur watched his materialized form leave the cockpit of his ship, landing on the snowy Cosmodrome dirt below.

"After you." Marcus said, as Ashur transmatted to the surface of Earth, taking off his helmet and breathing in normal-altitude air for the first time in a while. Then, Marcus showed up next to them.

"Right. Let's go." Theriad said, walking right into a… sealed off door.

"What the? This wasn't sealed off last time I checked." He started, just as Ashur put a fiery palm to the metal, heating it up to almost maga-like levels. "This heat isn't going to bust the door down alone. I'm going to need some force."

Then, Marcus took his cue. He backed up a few paces and took a deep breath. Then, he began to sprint full force to the door. He was only about 15 meters away, but that's really all it took.

Energy built up around his torso, sending minor shockwaves trembling about. He released the energy, throwing his body forward and right into the heated metal door while the air crackled around him.

Electricity mixed with heat, causing a chain reaction that not only electrified the doors mechanisms, but also shattered the metal completely. If the chain reaction of the two elements mixing together wasn't enough, the Titan's full body force and then some would have been more than enough to put a good sized dent into it, if not puncture it.

"Nice." Theriad commented, waltzing right into the open area.

The Devils Lair. The Fireteam hadn't ventured here since they first killed the machine, and they never wanted to go back in ever again. The place was a rotting hellhole, smelling of Fallen and crawling with them all too much.

But it was quiet in the open area. There wasn't anything or anyone to focus their fire on.

Ashur flicked the safety catch on his Suros, treading forward carefully while the sound of battle began to draw closer. "They're still alive." Marcus said, more questioning than stating. "It would appear so." Theriad asserted, walking forward and up some stairs, as the sound grew louder and louder.

…

"Duck!" Krastis shouted, echoing his comrade a few moments ago just as a bolt of fiery electricity soared over Ak'tal's head. "You gotta watch it, Akkie." Iksis retorted, picking up a Vandal's wire rifle and pelting the large machine with it.

The modified rifle worked differently, however. It was no longer a long range tool, but rather a close range auto rifle. He didn't like it.

The Knight saw a bolt soaring straight to him, putting his black wall of a shield up just in time to protect him and Krastis from the death-inducing shots. _One. Two. Three._ Each shot drew more energy from Ak'tal as he slowly lost his grip on the shield's presence. Finally, he let go of the shield as the Psion ducked into more reliable cover. When it came down, another blast met him and slammed into Ak'tal's chest, sending his body soaring into the wall behind him.

In one moment, the Knight was headed to the wall, in the next, he had perished.

"Ak'tal!" Krastis shouted, his voice grumbling as the Cabal tongue tried to translate into their universal language.

Iksis gave out a low-pitched gurgle of speaking, exclaiming, "Damnit!" While pelting the Servitor with Shock Pistol rounds.

Krastis went for Ak'tal's body, but was met with another shot, incinerating his body where he stood and leaving his Ghost in the open. The Servitor charged another shot made specifically for the surprised Ghost, and Iksis was too far to save it. The blast went soaring through the air, and…

…

"Go!" Theriad shouted, seeing the battlefield ahead of them. There weren't any Fallen but Sepiks, floating where he did the first time they had faced him and shooting more and more energy shots.

He saw the Psion rush for the Hive Knight, only to be incinerated and leaving an exposed Ghost in his death.

Marcus ran forward first, diving to the Ghost while another blast soared his way. Once his hands clutched the robot, he slammed the ground with his fist and up came a void wall, protecting them from the Servitor's blast.

He let go of the Ghost, as it began to rematerialize Krastis and revive Ak'tal. When they both were in fighting condition, they raised their weapons with the other three and readied a charge.

…

Iksis began to channel his electrified power, letting the bolts of thunder crackle on his skin and send tendrils of lightning seeking his teammates. He felt empowered in the process, obviously affecting those around him for the better. He felt faster, stronger, more resistant.

They all looked at each other while in the void shield, as if understanding the next move perfectly. Six of them on one measly Servitor was no match, and with three seasoned Guardians on their side the fight was clearly theirs. The Vandal raised a shock dagger in one hand and a shock pistol in the other, rushing out of the Ward of Dawn with his allies and straight to the Servitor. Immediately, a void bow pierced straight through its eye, probably blinding it and causing severe damage.

A void bomb of some sort crashed straight into it, disintegrating its outer shell while flames licked the inner workings of the Servitor, jets of them stabbing into the machine and destroying its inner workings. Krastis's doing.

In a bold move of either courage or stupidity, Theriad leaped right onto the Servitor, while his Ghost left his form out of a clear move of cutting his losses.

The Hunter clung to the front eye of the Fallen machine as he plucked a knife, digging it into the Servitor's eye plating and attempting to lever it off. The metal sensors barely moved an inch before Sepiks summoned yet another blast of energy, disintegrating the Hunter. All that remained of Theriad was the echo of his yelp resonating across the metal walls.

Ak'tal then charged the Servitor with his power, bringing his sword down on the metal and cutting through half of it like melted butter. The Hive Knight stood on top of the Servitor, repeatedly plucking his sword out and plunging it back in. Then, the swing of a mighty solar hammer was all that was needed to destroy the Fallen Ether Farmer.

The machine then fell to the earth below, mutilated and beaten beyond recognition. Bits and pieces of the new technology sparked and fell from the original purple shell all while the remaining 5 Guardians stood with triumphant looks in their faces.

Of course, there had to be a ressurection for the idiotic Hunter, so Ashur walked to where his Ghost was hiding. "It's safe now." He informed, as Angle began to siphon Light into Theriad's Ghost. Einstein then used the energy and formed his Guardian from nothing, materializing a Hunter with a stupid grin right in front of the Warlock's eyes. "Tah-dah!" He stupidly proclaimed.

After that, the Hunter asked, "What was the explosion like? Was it even better than the first time we killed that machine's sorry ass?" As Ashur tried to think of an answer. "He didn't explode. Quite strange, really. I don't know if it was that strange tech keeping him from activating self-destruct or what, but that hunk of metal is still sitting down there.

With that, Theriad leaped down to where the Servitor's corpse was, where Sepiks had shot its last blast. "Strange. They usually blow up in a cool fit of explosions. Quite satisfying. But he's just… sitting there. Evil-looking." The Hunter explained to those who hadn't witnessed a Servitor's death before. Which obviously included no one, but Theriad loved to hear his own voice sometimes. He raised an eyebrow, hefting his Ghost forward, then saying "Alright, Einstein." To his Ghost.

The Ghost obviously looked offended, but did his work nonetheless. "I can't take myself seriously with you calling me that." The Ghost muttered to his Guardian. "Right. Nothing too out of the ordinary, if you don't count that… SIVA stuff as abnormal. Wait. Wait. I found something." The Ghost explained hastily.

"It's… Explosives!"

…

The Titan was the first to wake, tilting his head up with much effort. Marcus stared at his surroundings through a cracked helmet visor, feeling pain sprawling all throughout his body. They were still in the same place. The only difference was the amount of destruction the blast had caused. Marcus hardly remembered it. Bright flashing, then darkness. "Ghost…" He coughed. "Turn off my neurosensors."

Usually, he didn't turn off his sensors. It led to poor decision making and strategy. Pain is what fueled fighters, and what let them know when to back off. He didn't like it either, feeling numb. But in a time like this, he really needed them off.

He got into a crouching formation, scanning around him. The entire canvas was scorched, the explosion obviously did something right. To his left in a corner was the outcasts, all piled on top of one another, probably unconscious. They were the farthest from the explosion. He looked around him for Ashur, whom he spotted hanging halfway off of a ledge. He saw blood seeping from his head at a distance, and he would probably bleed out and die soon judging on the amount of blood. Which left one question, where was Theriad?

He began to walk to the end of the ledge, peeking down at where the Servitor had once been. Of course, nothing but ashes were there at the moment, that and scorched earth.

He sat on the ledge, hopping down in a swift format and looking behind him, the only possible place for the Hunter's body to be.

Marcus found it. Under the ledge up top lay the Hunter. Theriad's clothes were tattered, exposing parts of seared flesh and blood. Small lines of pink were made out across his tattered clothes, parts where the explosion quite literally melted his clothes and his skin partially. Marcus sauntered over to him.

In his right hand, he was clenching his Ghost tightly. Probably a last second manuver to save it. Which, evidently, turned out to be fruitful. The Ghost had seen better days, but still had a pulsating blue eye. "Einstein..." He muttered, and the Ghost looked up at the Titan.

The robot was seared in more than one place, scorch marks and scratches tainting the Ghost's shell. Then, as it had just had a sudden realization of what happened, he scanned his seemingly dead Guardian.

"He's gone." He muttered, beaming a cone of light around him and repiecing various parts of his clothing and healing some of his wounds. Soon enough, Theriad looked normal, and left his Ghost to do the easy job of bringing him back to life.

With a cough, the Hunter woke. He thrashed his hands about, reaching for something unknown, then scanning his surroundings. "Hey. It worked." He said gleefully, looking at his damaged Ghost. "Cat-like reflexes." Einstein muttered, disappearing into Theriad's clothes.

"We gotta get out of here. I don't like how quiet it is." Marcus said.

…

Theriad, Marcus, and Ashur all stood over the Outcast's hunched bodies, examining them. "Well," Theriad began. "They're all definitely dead. Kind of weird that they all landed on each other, but it makes for a good Christmas Card." He chortled. Ashur shook his head, fetching Angel and sending her forward. "Do me a solid, dear."

Soon enough, the Outcasts were breathing again and confused. "What the hell?" Iksis asked, his voice coming out as more of a congested growl than actual words. When they all stood, they dusted themselves off and began to walk out of the lair. "We have to get out of this jamming signal." Theriad suggested.

As he said it, the red light of the Splicers' transmat began to glow behind them, signalling another enemy. In one swift motion, the Guardians had their weapons raised, preparing for it. And as the weapons were drawn, the comms began to pour open with Saladin and Shiro's nervous conversation, as the jammer seemingly undid itself.

The group turned behind to see the transmat, as Saladin shouted, "Get out of there! If you can hear me GET OUT OF THERE!"

After he said it, a six-legged spider-looking figure appeared, with the SIVA tech littered all over him. A field of the nanites covered his form, and they looked aggrivated. Iksis recognized him almost immediately, though he was kind of hard to make out with all of the changes the Archon had made. The power-hungry Devil Archon, Aksis. "Aksis!" He shouted at the mutilated Priest.

The Archon stared daggers into Iksis, as if he had recognized the Heretic. The mutilated Priest then glared at each of the other Guardians, as they prepared shots for the Fallen.

Two of its six legs moved forward, dragging the body with it and inching closer as the Archon reached for its weapon, firing bursts with it immediately. The places it landed sprang up with more of the red technology, almost encasing the area with the nanites. And each of the group knew not to step in, they weren't dumb enough to pull the devil's tail. "You have nowhere to go but behind you, to retreat. You are no match for me," He started, just as a bullet was loosed. Theriad's handcannon.

The projectile made its way to the Devil's nanite swarm, stopping almost immediately and disappearing in a sense.

"Hah. My point exactly." It growled. That was when the spider Priest began to sprint straight for them, toppling over storage containers and boxes to ge to them. The group knew this wasn't an invitation to stay, so they made a beeline right out of the lair.

Theriad slid right off of a ledge, skipping stairs while the rest of them leaped down the stairs about halfway, trampling over each other to make it out while the Archon crashed into walls, pillars and other formations.

"Who's that ugly sonofabitch?!" Theriad asked, leaping over a dead Dreg's body to keep from tripping. "That's Aksis, a former Devil Archon." Iksis answered with a small amount of reserve breath. "Right, but why in the hell is he-" Theriad began. He was cut off by Marcus, "Shut the hell up and run!" as they darted another corner, Ak'tal tripping Krastis and in turn tripping himself, tumbling straight into a wall while the spider figure neared.

"He can't get to us up ahead!" Ashur shouted, noting the small ceiling of the hallway they were about to enter. Krastis, Iksis, and Ak'tal sped past the Warlock, barreling into the hallway safe from harm by the Archon. Ashur and Marcus followed suit, as Theriad dove right out of the Archon's grasp and into safety.

He quickly turned around with a handcannon drawn, pelting the Archon with shots but all of them having no effect. "Get us out of here!" Ashur shouted at Angel, who began to transmat him back onto his ship, the other Ghosts doing the same for their Guardians.

Ashur was plucked right into the seat of his ship, a familiar feeling. He let out a deep breath as beads of sweat trickled down his face. "That… What the hell was that?" He shouted through his comms.

"Aksis." Iksis boomed, "He was a lesser Archon Priest in House Devil. When I was under their banner he was nothing more than a power hungry bottom feeder. Apparantly he has become more than that."

"Indeed he has. I have been running searches on the Archon since this new SIVA threat surfaced, and I found that he is now the Splicer's Kell of sorts. More machine than anything, however. He led the Devils to SIVA, in the old replication chamber where… the rest of the Iron Lords lay. Now they bow to him." Saladin spat. But still one thing piqued Ashur's mind.

"I would have thought that they destroy the self destruct protocol because of the new technology. That maybe keeping the chassis to the Servitor can be enough to repair it, but instead they use it as a bomb deposit. Why?" He asked. "Maybe as a way to kill us, or you. Obviously the Servitor knew we would be back in Old Russia, or that you guys were. And evidently when we got close to the carcass, the bomb went off and almost successfully wiped us all out. Ghosts and all. I think this was all a trap, that Felwinter Peak was just a front to get us back to the Cosmodrome and to kill Theriad, Ashur, and I." Marcus reasoned.

It all made sense. That would probably explain why the fighting force for the Fallen was as little as it was at Felwinter's Peak, and why there were so many Fallen the Outcasts had encountered. It was all set up for Theriad, Marcus, and Ashur.

"Well, you gotta be notorious for something." Theriad tried. "In our case that just means that too many aliens want to kill us." He continued.

"Guardians, I am at the Tower. Come speak with me and Zavala about debriefing. We have much to talk about." Saladin ordered.

 **Author's Note:**

 **I'll keep it short this time. Got this chapter out shorter because it was part of the one before this, Chapter 7, so yeah.**

 **Read, review, and enjoy.**

 **(Once again, all constructive reviews are accepted and greatly appreciated. I want to improve my writing, and I can't do that as well if I don't have critiques of some sort. PLEASE GUYS BASH ON MY STORY!)**

 **Anyway, ciao!**

 **PS: Prelude to Outcasts is up right now. Check it out on my profile if you're interested.**


	12. Chapter 9: Warning from Beyond

Ashur, Marcus, and Theriad led the Outcasts to the Vanguard Hall, reaching the table and noticing something different.

The number of people. That was the difference. In addition to the three existing Vanguards, Shaxx, Lord Saladin, and an unrecognized figure stood at the table as well.

Shaxx and Saladin were next to Zavala, gathering information from a map on the table. Meanwhile, the other figure was chatting with Cayde, like cousins at a family reunion. His voice was familiar as well…

"Guardians!" He called out upon noticing them. It was Shiro.

He wore a yellow cape decorated with banners and cloth with the House of Kings' insignia. He was robotic, and looked somewhat similar to Cayde. All in all, if they had pictured Shiro as an Exo, everything sounded fitting about him.

The other three turned their attention to the newcomers, Saladin beckoning first. "Guardians. You have made it. There is much we need to discuss."

"Yeah. We figured. Otherwise there wouldn't be…" Theriad started, looking at all of the people. "this many Guardians in one room." He finished.

"No matter. Your debts to the city, no, mankind expand thousand fold. We are thankful for your presence, and your efforts in stopping threats the Darkness has thrown at us. Starting with Atheon and ending with The Renegade. But I'm afraid your luck has run short. The Fallen have found a deadly technology. Something we underestimated. Its capacity for harm outweighed its capacity for assisting. We thought it could expand our reaches, take us further and further into reclaiming our Solar System. But we… were sorely mistaken. My Iron Lords and I ventured for this technology. After Timur discovered this technology to be a reality rather than a myth, we embarked on a quest to attain it. But our battles were in vain. Hundreds of Iron Lords and only 9 of us reached the Replication Chamber. We fought frames… horrors of metal and wire... tried to contain it… but in the end, I was the only one to survive." Saladin said, his voice on the verge of breaking.

"What is this… SIVA?" Ashur asked. "I mean, we know that it transforms its user. The Fallen seem to have become accomadated with it, seem to be quite apt to it. But what really… is its purpose?" Of course, he would be the one to ask that. He was always looking to expand his knowledge…

This time, though, Shiro answered. "It's a nanotechnology, capable of many uses. Each version of SIVA has a different branch, something it specializes in. The first branch was meant for weapon enhancing. Supply the weapons with an unlimited power source, and it could shoot forever. Enhance the bullets and it could become more powerful. Etcetera. The second branch specialized in wounds, in healing. That branch especially was effective in its purpose. Modern medicine at the time would have been wiped off the shelves. The third was enhancing mechanical beings, fourth for organic beings. Modify their bodies, augment their form. Create the perfect life form. The fifth was one of the more direct branches. It assigned directives to the other branches and weeded out which ones needed to work on a certain project. Its what kept branch 1 from working on wounds, for instance. And the sixth was meant for building. Be it construction or electronics, really anything."

"So everything the Fallen would need to build an army and modify themselves." Marcus inserted.

"Precisely. They modified their weapons, as you may have noticed. The organic Fallen, such as Dregs or Vandals utilized the fourth branch where Servitors and Tanks were engaged in the third. The second gave them constant regeneration. An invaluable combat tool. And by controlling the fifth branch they can assign SIVA to do whatever they want it to do. They've also been modifying fortifications in the Cosmodrome with the final branch." Zavala growled.

"What are the Fallen planning on doing? And more importantly what's our next move?" Marcus asked. Zavala answered the second question. "We plan on sending you six to an artillery position in the Cosmodrome. Past the walls, where they are using gunships to defend the replication chamber. It's why we haven't sent anyone in bulk to the chamber. After we destroy those, we're sending a large fighting force to them, as a beachhead. You six will then have to search the Bray archives, on Mars, for a way to destroy the Replication Chamber. In the morning, of course. You will need your rest. As for what the Fallen plan on doing, your guess is about as good as mine."

This time, Iksis intervened. "The Fallen are scavengers. Resourceful at that. They may be planning to invade the City, to reclaim the Machine. That is their ultimate goal, why they entered the Solar System in the first place."

Everyone simply looked at him with bewildered expressions on their faces. Ikora knit her brows, then said, "What use would they have with the Traveler? They have SIVA."

"To destroy their enemy. Humanity." Iksis answered.

…

Theriad, Ashur, and Marcus walked out of the Vanguard Hall with their shoulders slumped. "You know, you'd think that after destroying a virtual time machine, killing a Hive and Vex God and dealing with that Renegade prick we would get cut some slack, at least on the Darkness side of things. This is getting really old really fast." Theriad spat as they 6 of them walked to the balcony railing.

"So long as there are Guardians, there will never be an end to the threats," Marcus interjected. "I'd rather be put out of commission than have to keep fighting." Theriad lied. Truth was, he loved fighting. As did most other Hunters. The trill of battle.

After that comment, the space remained quiet for a short time.

"You three appear to know each other fairly well." Krastis noticed. The comment pierced the silence and interrupted everyone's thoughts. Everyone looked at him weirdly, wondering where in the world that sudden comment had come from. "What? It was just an observation." He defended.

…

Ak'tal listened to the Guardian's words. Krastis's words. Or at least he had tried. With the increasing volume in the voices, it was hard to concentrate. That and the fact that he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched all the time. Like everyone was judging him and the others.

Iksis seemed to get a normal amount of respect and understanding. He didn't have watchful eyes on him all the time. Probably because everyone knew how and why Fallen could be transferred to the Light. It made sense. The Machine had visited them first, and they were still organic beings that could manipulate the elements.

Krastis seemed to get an abnormal amount of respect. When he and Iksis walked into the Vanguard Hall, everyone thought nothing of it. Probably because Krastis is a relatively harmless creature against multiple Guardians. They figure that he can't do much damage. Him and Iksis.

But when Ak'tal entered the room, he could _feel_ the uneasiness he had presented. He saw the way that the Commander glared at him, the way that Cayde went for his handcannon slowly. He saw Shaxx's uneasiness as well. All but that Lord Saladin felt like he was a threat.

He was big and could cause some damage. They saw the sword of his, always out and present, and thought he was going to cleave them in two. They were afraid of the Darkness, but he no longer was a conduit of the Darkness. His sword no longer held that energy.

He could not understand them. The Humans. The Guardians. None of it made sense to Ak'tal. There was only one thing he had been born to do. One thing that was hardwired into him since birth.

 _Kill them all._

 _ **No. You do not control me. You haven't since you died, and you definitely do not now.**_

 _But you do not fit in._

 _ **Then I shall make it so.**_

 _How? How would you plan on completing such an impossible task?_

 _ **You are dead. Act like it.**_

 _Fighting words. You are right. I may have been banished from my throne world, killed even. But I live on. Inside your tainted and twisted mind. Inside of all of my subjects' minds. There is a new danger coming. Something beyond what you can see now. Those three are murderers. Slayers. What they have done will catch up to them. One way or another._

 _ **I may not be an orthodox Guardian, but I have a new allegiance. Call it what you will; betrayal, backstabbing. Just know that I no longer serve you. Nor have I ever. Deep down you know this. You know that you never had control over me. You merely played it so. Your death was my already open jail cell breaking. Shattering.**_

 _You have one this battle, Knight. But mark my words, you will not win them all._

 _..._

 _Hive swords smite the weak._

 _You killed my son._

"Who are you?" the Hunter's scared voice asked. He was somewhere dark. Pitch black. He couldn't see anything, and the voice seemed to have come all around him.

 _His blood is on your hands._

"Who are you?" He echoed.

 _Crota._

The name sent chills down Theriad's spine. He darted behind him and lunged out. Nothing. He fell and slid to the ground, and the voice continued assaulting his ears.

 _I am coming. And when I do, you have nowhere to run. The Light can't hide you from me forever. You. Will. Pay._

"WHO ARE YOU?!"

 _Take with you this name. Oryx. The Taken King. I will find you. And I will take you all._

Suddenly, the face became clear. The enemy was obviously Hive, and he had three eyes decorated on his face. To the left and right were horns of some sort, reaching out and giving the Hive a sinister look.

 _I will be awaiting you. Outside of this vision of yours._

Then, the figure took a body, appearing randomly and somehow being the only thing Theriad could see. He had wings, obviously old and worn, but they worked apparently. He drew a sword from nothing, charging Theriad with it.

 _Revenge!_

Theriad dove to the right, pulling his knife and tossing it with immense speed to the being.

His form turned to the blade in less than a second, swatting it away harmlessly.

 _Bah! You dare challenge me?_

The blade was swept at Theriad all too fast and caught him on the side. Luckily the blade did nothing more than scathe him, he felt a cold and painful tremor throughout his body. As if he was slowly being drained of his life.

He fell to the ground, clutching the side wound while the sword was brought up once again.

 _Revenge._

Suddenly, Theriad had an idea of who he was up against. Crota's father. It all made sense. Theriad spit blood to his side that he couldn't see but knew was present and propped his head up, facing the demon.

"Hive swords smite the weak? What does that say about your son." He scoffed.

The demon, 'Oryx', raised his sword with a grunt, anger rushing over him. He wasted not another second, and brought it down just as fast as it had been raised, if not faster.

...

Startled, Theriad jerked his head up, looking around him frantically. The scenery changed. He was on the Tower. On the… balcony?

With a quick surge of disbelief, he clutched his side. No wound. No 'Oryx', and no blackness. He was safe.

He shook his head, and it started throbbing. Headache.

How did he fall asleep on the Tower? On the balcony? Better yet why was it daytime? Last time he checked the Tower had fallen to night.

He began to ask more questions internally until he noticed the sky. It was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. His eyes grazed across the sky until he located a single cloud. A blemish. Its shape was odd and something he hadn't seen before. Like half rectangle and half oval. He hadn't ever seen anything like it.

But something clouded the sky, cast a shadow over the Tower. In Theriad's peripheral vision he caught it. The shadow was a ship. A transport ship. "Cabal." Theriad exclaimed, half in disbelief. Frantic, he turned around to see dozens of other Guardians looking up as well. Pointing.

He ran past them, down the stairs to the Vanguard Hall for clarification, or from fear. Running past where Shaxx was usually standing, he entered the pit and saw… himself?

He was standing at the table, where Cayde usually stood reaching for a handcannon. His own. Theriad waved at them, shouting, "Cabal!" But his voice came out deprived of sound. He wasn't there. They didn't notice him.

Suddenly, the wall to his back exploded, sending debris everywhere and the Vanguards turning their attention. A larger brute-like Cabal with two massive battle axes in hand swept at Theriad, who ducked but didn't avert the swipe. He turned to unload handcannon blasts into its back, but the swipe was unable to be stopped.

It caught Ikora in the side, sinking its way into her flesh as she cried in agony. During her cry, the second axe shoved her off and into a wall. A disturbing cracking noise was heard with how fast her body smacked into the structure. Zavala ran to her but she was already dead and her Ghost had been forced out of her body.

A single projectile pierced the air and the battlefield stood still for a single moment. The shot traveled through the air in seemingly slow-motion and landed on Ikora's Ghost, shattering it. She was gone.

Zavala shouted with anger and anguish, bending at the knees and showing mass emotion for his Warlock ally. But his weeping stopped almost as fast as it began, and he rose to his feet. He turned the opposite direction where Theriad was pelting Cabal and trying to keep them at bay. He began a charge into the crowd and started swinging his fists left and right, punching holes in Cabal armor and killing more and more until…

Theriad pumped more handcannon shots into the brutish Cabal, but he soon emptied the chamber and started to hear a clicking noise.

An axe pierced Zavala's back, snapping his spine and sucking the air right out of his lungs. He clutched the soldier in front of him as Theriad shouted in protest and in disbelief. The Titan Vanguard, Commander of the Guardians, was tossed off of the axes and to the still intact Vanguard window.

His body thumped against the glass, shattering it instantly as he flew out helplessly. To the ground thousands of feet below.

That left Theriad. The lone survivor. He raised a handcannon and attempted a defense against the onslaught, but nothing. It all happened too fast. He was overrun and there was nothing he could do. One punched him towards a wall, the other shot blasts into his chest, and a third beat him senseless.

Suddenly, the ceiling to the Vanguard hall cracked. The weakened Hunter looked up, seeing more and more cracks appear in the lining until…

 _CRACK!_

The ceiling collapsed on the dying Guardian and on the Cabal attacking him. Theriad looked below him, seeing more and more cracks appearing in the fissures. The walls around him burst open and collapsed. The Tower was falling.

The entire structure shifted, throwing Theriad into a wall to his left as he felt the Tower falling to the ground below. It was all gone.

…

Theriad jerked up, sweat trickling down his face as he swiveled his head to the left and right. His breathing was raspy and fast, and he was in a panicked state.

He was on his bed, a blanket over his feet and his belongings all throughout the almost pitch black room. He was in his sleeping dorm. His loft. Theriad blinked.

Then, another form sat up almost lazily. "Theriad? You okay?" The female voice asked, hazy in her speaking and sounding half-asleep. It was Amanda.

His eyes raised open, and he tried to recall events that had happened prior. Last he remembered Amanda was mad at him for… something.

But wIth a sigh of relief, he accepted it and instantly became a thousand times more comfortable. He realized had all been a dream, and he turned to her with a smile. "Yeah. Just a bad dream is all." He brought a hand to his face and wiped a bead of sweat that had found its way down to his chin.

He slumped back down as she curled up on him, presumably as she was before he woke. She ran a hand through his hair, half asleep as he stared at the ceiling, wondering what in the hell he had just dreamt.

His arm wrapped around her body and he closed his eyes, letting a minor amount of thoughts reach his conscious.

 _Oryx?_

 _The Cabal?_

He asked those questions when he remembered one important detail about his vision.

 _Me in the Vanguard's position?_

…

 **Author's Note:**

 **Yes, I know about the formatting error a little ways above. I couldn't fix it because the editor was being a big dickish, so sorry.**

 **Apologies for the relatively short chapter. This was originally WAY WAY shorter. (pretty much only included the SIVA conversation and Theriad's dreams.)**

 **Remeber to check out Destiny: Emergence on my profile. If you liked Outcasts, I'm sure you'll like this one.**

 **Anywho... Read, review, rate, etc.**

 **'Till the next one.**


	13. Ak'tal's Subclass (not official chapter)

**Ak'tal's subclass (void)**

 **Basic info:**

 **This subclass utilizes a Hive Boomer and a Sword only. No weapons and/or armor pieces, only upgrades. (Will explain later)**

 **Grenade 1: Magnetic Grenade**

 **Grenade 2: Axion Dart**

 **Grenade 3: Suppression Grenade**

…

 **Melee: Sword Slash-Swipes sword in a long(ish) range ahead and is capable of dealing damage to multiple targets**

 **Ability 1: Live by the Sword- Each kill with Sword Slash replenishes a small amount of health**

 **Ability 2: Thrive by the Sword- Each kill with Sword Slash has a chance to recharge grenade/gain bonus super energy**

 **Ability 3: Die by the Sword- Each kill with Sword Slash gives a stackable boost to reload speed and weapon handling (stacks up to 3 times)**

 _ **Some statistics for Sword Slash:**_

 _ **-Less range than a Titan Melee once fully charged**_

 _ **-Lower damage than a Hunter/Warlock melee when charged**_

 _ **-When not charged, a simple jab with the hilt of the sword replaces it**_

…

 **Super: Void Anchor-Slams sword down in a Nova Bomb-like radius that pulls all enemies to the center of the sword, where they will take more damage.**

 **Ability 1: Vortex- enemies caught in the Void Anchor are pulled to the center more aggressively, and experience more recoil when inside the Vortex**

 **Ability 2: Unbreakable- Take less damage when Void Anchor is active**

 **Ability 3: Sharp Edge- Gain the ability to move about the Vortex when it is active (previously you would stay at the center, now you can move in the ring)**

 _ **Some statistics for Void Anchor**_

 _ **-Activation is the same timing/animation for the Titan's Fist, but with a sword in hand that plunges in the ground when it hits**_

 _ **-Death From Above is the activation that happens when you are higher in the air**_

 _ **-When caught in the Vortex, enemies are able to shoot at you, as you are stationary in the middle (With the exception of Sharp Edge)**_

…

 **Upgrade Tree One:**

 **Ability 1: Dark Energies- Your Sword deals Void Damage (previously it did not)**

 **Ability 2: Hive Boomer- Gain a Hive Boomer instead of a Shredder**

 **Ability 3: Sword Slam- Press R2/RT to slam on the ground ahead, dealing massive amounts of damage. (Can one-hit anyone in crucible/does the same damage as Crota's Sword but takes 10 ammo)**

 _ **Some notes:**_

 _ **-Keep in mind that this class has two weapons: A sword which takes up Special and a Shredder that takes up Primary (unless you get the boomer weapon)**_

 _ **-The Boomer perk replaces your Shredder with an innacurate boomer, which functions much like a grenade toss (momentum and such) Hard to aim.**_

 _ **-Ak'tal's sword functions much like the Hive sword, without the jump spams. Jump attacks work like the TTK swords**_

…

 **Upgrade Tree Two:**

 **Ability 1: Defended by the Sword- Gain the ability to block. The block has a kinetic shield, so all elements excluding kinetic are effectively blocked**

 **Ability 2: Suppressed by the Sword- Super lasts shorter. Enemies caught in super are blinded, take more damage, but are dealt significantly less damage**

 **Ability 3: Anchored by the Sword- Super lasts shorter. Super recharges faster.**

 _ **Stats:**_

 _ **-Ability 2 obviously doesn't blind majors, but does deal enough to at least stagger them. The initial impact/hit**_ **will** _**provide a debuff to the major that causes him to not target you for as long as your super is up, however. After that, though, you are fair game**_

 _ **-Ability 3's duration is about 4 seconds as opposed to the 7 you had prior. Recharge is about 40% faster as well, and the damage decrease not stated is a 35% decrease in damage. (Usually takes 3 seconds to kill a Guardian caught in about the middle, 1.5 for someone caught in the center layer, and 10 continuous seconds of standing at the outer edge to kill one. (Even though there aren't 10 seconds of super ever.)**_

…

 **Other Notes:**

 **Keep in mind this was hastily thought up, and that the Knight subclass only utilizes a sword and shredder/boomer.**

 **It may seem broken, idk. Didn't really take too much time thinking out all of the abilities. Just figured I should post this.**

 **Also since we're reaching about 4k views and 800 visitors I'm going to take a little bit longer to make this next chapter. With getting a new laptop, an injured hand and everything else I haven't had that much time to do what I want fanfiction wise.**


	14. Chapter 10: Hubris

The bed creaked a slight amount when Theriad sat up, and he quickly darted his head around to make sure he didn't wake Amanda.

She didn't stir at all. Amanda was still sleeping, her form nuzzled where Theriad had once been holding her. He leaned in and gave a slight peck of a kiss on her cheek, being careful to not wake her.

She still remained asleep, not even moving or seemingly affected. And with that, he stood and moved to the other side of his room, gripping his armor underclothes and pulling a tight black shirt over his torso and sliding into loose black sweatpants for his legs.

He turned to face Amanda one more time, admiring her while she was still asleep.

"Are you ready to go?" His Ghost asked without a trace of stealth. To that, Amanda opened her eyes hazily. She took a deep breath and sat up, scratching her messed up hair and looking at Theriad.

"Way to go, Einstein. You managed to wake her up." Theriad blamed. Amanda gave half a smile, then asking, "Leaving so soon?" Theriad leaned in closer to her, kissing her forehead gently. "I guess I do." He replied flatly. When he pulled away from her, she wrapped the blankets tighter around her. "Then I'm going back to sleep." She explained, laying back down and closing her eyes again. "Don't die." She called out just as he was leaving. "No promises." Theriad cried back as he was out the door.

…

Ashur flinched at the appearance of his Ghost. "Wake up." Angel flatly ordered. Ashur shook his head. "I haven't been asleep yet."

It was true. His bloodshot eyes were a testament to his insomnia, and he sat up with his robes and gear still on him. He reached across the room and plucked his scout rifle off of a table, right next to a dusty Servitor CPU. He blinked.

"You should try and get some sleep." Angel suggested. "I can't sleep when I have a thousand thoughts all swirling around at once." Ashur growled. He stood from his bed, retrieving what other belongings he was missing and pushing his door open.

…

Iksis and Krastis were awoken at the same time, and they both sat up in the same position, glancing at each other from across the room.

Ak'tal woke them up, and was standing in between the two beds. "We must vacate the premise and report to Zavala." he spoke. Iksis stood from his bed as Krastis did the same. The Psion still had his helmet on and was in full combat gear. In fact, Iksis hadn't seen Krastis once without his armor. "Krastis?" He asked. "Yes?"

"Why don't you ever take off your armor?" Iksis asked. Krastis shrugged. "Probably because I'll die in this atmosphere. Oxygen bad for Cabal lungs. Plus the pressure of this planet would surely crush my face and send my insides outwards."

"Oh."

…

"Guardians. The gun placement in question is on the outer rifts of the Cosmodrome, in an area now known as the Plaguelands. As stated before, the SIVA enhanced MAG guns prevent any further advancements on their Replication Chamber. We're sending you six and three others, to take out the guns and make a hole in the defense for just long enough of a window to get into the Replication Chamber and take it out." Zavala explained, pointing at areas of the map laid out in front of him, gesturing to the gun placement, the Plagelands, and the hole in the wall.

Theriad gave a questioning look at Ashur, who then turned to Marcus. "Who are the other three?" Theriad asked. It was common sense that they'd only send the best to destroy a threat like this, and Theriad knew that his Fireteam had the most experience than almost all of the others, so who were they sending besides them and the Outcasts?

As if to answer his question on cue, a female voice called out behind them. "Am I late?" She inquired. Theriad darted his head like the rest of them to a female Titan and two others. A Warlock, by the looks of him, and a Hunter.

"Lexi?" Theriad asked. Iksis turned his confused expression to the other three. _There is so much to get caught up on._

The Titan held a helmet at her side and a grin on her face. She had blue eyes with long blonde hair that was confined in a pony tail. Her form couldn't have been bigger than Theriad's physique, but she still looked stronger than most of the people in the room.

"Ah. Lexi. Always wanting to make a dramatic entrance, eh? Gotta love it." Cayde spouted. "That's my favorite Titan-er- _one_ of my favorite Titans." Cayde said, giving a nervous glance to Zavala and Marcus, who couldn't care less.

"Malcolm. Amon." Ikora said, gesturing to the other two behind Lexi in a greeting. They nodded but stayed behind their Titan leader.

Ashur broke the triad of his group, meeting the Warlock and discussing things with a brighter tone than he usually did. Meanwhile, Theriad went to Lexi and the Hunter, with Marcus following suit.

Ak'tal glanced over at them, with Iksis and Krastis exchanging looks of their own. Anytime one of the other Guardians would catch their eye, they would cut off the eye contact, look at the ground, and give a disturbed look on their faces. Like they were revolted at the sight of them.

"Don't worry. I can tell they're gonna love ya." Cayde whispered to the group. He put a hand on Iksis's shoulder, who reacted without any glimpse of recognition.

When the introductions were done and about 5 minutes after Lexi's group entered the room, Zavala halted the conversations. "You are all going to have to improvise a way in. Being that the nature of this establishment is the shoot down air vehicles and other intruders, this isn't going to be a standard transmat. You're going to need a way in."

Lexi was the first to talk. "Malcolm is the best pilot I know. He can get us to the surface or right above the guns without a problem." The Hunter gave a salute, and Iksis figured that he was Malcolm, and the other was 'Amon'.

"Experienced on Guardianship, I may not be. But I have grown fond of Eliksni ways. Your transport can only go so far. It may get Guardians to the surface, but what of landing or leaving? Skiffs and Fallen ships will not be targeted. Your ships will." Iksis interrupted. Lexi shot him a dangerous look, while the Vanguards look intrigued to hear what he had to say. Theriad, Marcus, and Ashur turned to him without maliceful looks, but rather caring ones.

"Continue." Zavala ordered. "My...Erm...plan is utilizing my Skiff to slip past the defences in order to gain easy access into the placement. I can get us as close to the surface as the Hunter can, without the risk of certain death." Iksis answered. Still, the disgusting looks remained with Lexi's exposed face. And if the Vandal could take a wise assumption, he would guess that the other Hunter and Warlock have the same expression under their helmets.

"He's right. Fallen don't shoot their own ships down, or at least they haven't for a while. It's a good idea." Cayde complimented. It was the first words to break the silence that Iksis had left, and he was happy that the Exo did it.

"I'm not piling up into some damn Fallen Skiff. We're going to enter the atmosphere as we normally would, and how we should. We'll have those guns down before they can even know what hit them." Lexi retorted, keeping the knife-like stare on Iksis and the other two. "I'm experienced enough to understand the risks and dangers and we can get it done without your ship." Lexi spat in continued argumentation.

Iksis sank his head down, deterring his look of aggression towards the Titan. The room stood silent as Krastis prepared a verbal assault on the Titan.

"There is no danger in utilizing the Skiff to slip past the defenses. It is the wiser move strategically and-" "And I didn't ask for your input, Psion. It's bad enough that you are in the same living spaces as us, not to mention the fact that you're being validated for high-clearance missions such as these." The Titan continued.

The Vanguard looked shocked at the obvious hazing that was ensuing. Yet they remained silent, Ikora pursing her lips, Zavala putting on a stern and steely face while staring Ashur down as if he had any control on the situation.

Ashur and Theriad remained silent as ever, having enough experience with the other fireteam to not interrupt their obvious bullying but having enough respect for the Outcasts to silently think against the aggression.

Marcus, however, had enough of it.

"We are going in the Skiff. Whether or not you want to abide by the mission directives and risk your life all out of a show of xenophobic distaste for these three who have proven themselves to me time and time again. I have seen the way other Guardians look at them, as though they are still enemies. They've earned my trust and respect, something you have just lost." Marcus lectured, turning his form the other way and stomping out of the Vanguard Hall. Behind him, the Outcasts followed suit.

Ak'tal held his sword looser than he had in the Hall, certain that a skirmish would take place. He'd never truly known Marcus's thoughts on his group but now that he did, he was glad it was one of respect. His tension he had built up was released when Marcus defended them.

They entered the hangar while still experiencing the disdainful looks from other Guardians as they passed. One battle was one with them, but most certainly not the war.

The hangar was empty which was unusual, but given the narrative of the threat of SIVA it would make sense to allocate most of the Guardian resources at the Tower instead of sending them out, leaving it more unprotected than usual.

Regardless, the group of four entered the Skiff and took a seat, waiting for the rest of the Guardians to join them. The Outcasts still felt relaxed with Marcus's presence, and soon struck a conversation about the events that had just happened.

…

Theriad's mind was scrambled, just like Ashur's. Like mostly everyone in the room, the outburst was unexpected. Especially from Marcus, who was generally more reserved and silent than anything. Lexi surely didn't see it coming by any means and was still left with a dumbfounded look while Amon and Malcolm stood dormant awaiting her order.

He approached her after Ashur left for the Skiff and the Vanguard went back to discussing amongst themselves.

"Look… um…" He tried. Lexi simply stared him down and changed the subject immediately to something he'd wished she'd stop bringing up.

"I'm sorry for how I left things after Crota…" She began, while Malcolm and Amon took their cue and left the room instantly. "I think about it daily and…" She trailed off, looking down to the left and trying to gather the words she wanted to say.

"Don't. What happened is over. Done. I was dumb enough to think that-" Theriad cut himself off this time, wanting to waste no more time on the subject. What happened happened. It was as simple as that. If anything, what happened turned out better for him anyways. There was nothing more to dwell on when it came to this.

…

They eventually all piled into the Skiff, with Ak'tal and Krastis sitting at the far front with Marcus and Theriad at their side. Lexi's group was nowhere to be seen, and it seemed that they hadn't liked Marcus's outburst. Didn't matter. The six of them was enough to get at least 3 of the guns disabled for a way to punch through.

Iksis started the Skiff up with the cabin remaining silent, the only exception being Ashur talking to Amon about his findings in his _Scholar Errata_ and Amon giving inquries and suggetsions for theories.

The ship gently pulled out of the hangar, Iksis's piloting skills showing as he moved the large craft like it was a small and agile jet. It would've been enough to pique Malcolm's attention if he was here.

Iksis gathered coordinates from the Vanguard and piloted the Skiff to the Cosmodrome, heading far north to the wall's opening that they had seen during their first mission and following into the snowy wasteland that was the Plaguelands.

The constant and continuing tendrils of SIVA reminded the group that they were no longer in the Cosmodrome that they had all grown accustomed to and that they had stumbled somewhere entirely different.

Iksis wished the Guardians would see through the exoskeleton of hate. The shroud that kept the Outcasts 'outcasts'. Anytime a Guardian came into range, the instant reaction was hostile, if not hateful. He wished that they could fit in somewhere other than their former allegiances. But then again, Iksis wished too much.

"Slow and steady does it." Ashur said, moving to the front of the Skiff to see out the visuals, noticing that they had arrived at the gun emplacement.

They were placed in a circle, with about 9 total. They covered an arc and were in the middle of an open area, not to mention the activity around them. "This replication chamber must be important." Iksis muttered. Then, the same voice that accompanied Theriad and his fireteam broke silence.

"It is imperative to the Fallen's operations. Without it, they cannot produce any more of the nanites, and thus cannot expand." It was Saladin talking, and the Outcasts had no clue of the man they were speaking to. They only held a tinge of familiarity with the voice itself.

Iksis decided not to question it and instead focus on getting through the defenses.

Iksis began to move closer, egging the turrets on to shoot him down. Theriad moved to Iksis's pilot seat, asking a nervous question as he did so.

"Any lock-ons? Do they see us coming?"

To this, Iksis answered as honest as he could. "Too hard to tell. Base of operations is big, big enough to miss hostile Skiff pouring through." As Iksis said it, he saw the activity of the area. Splicer Fallen riddled the outer defenses, peppering the ground with small dots that were underlaid by SIVA tendrils.

As a precaution, Iksis continued his informative sentence. "I would make sure your Ghost is safe, and standing by for ressurection. MAG cannons may target Skiff." But no such thing. He approached them with ease and no resistance, passing by unaware Skiffs whose pilots either didn't notice his Skiff was without SIVA modifications or didn't even see it in the first place.

The operation had gone as smooth as it could. Iksis had long passed the outer defenses of SIVA tendrils and Fallen scouts, and finally made it into the inner workings of the establishment.

From there, more activity could be seen. Tendrils were more abundant, and the MAG cannons provided a structre of their own, giving Fallen scouts a place other than the ground to stand on, and hide in. The middle would be their best bet, though reaction times would be faster and more efficent due to the surrounded nature of the middle. 9 MAG cannons was a lot, but so was 6 Guardians.

"It should only take 3 cannons to make room for other Guardians." Saladin informed the group. He was right. The fronts were covered 3 cannons at a time, and with a whole armada standing by, destroying an array of them could provide a small hole. Blitzkrieg.

"Operation is going smooth. Skiff is in position. Where are the others?" Iksis asked aloud.

"Unfortunately, due to the high threat of SIVA and the need to defend the City, we may not be able to spare many Guardian reinforcements to aid. We'll see what we can find, though." Ikora boomed back.

Ashur turned to Theriad, who turned to the Outcasts in the bay, who then turned to Marcus.

"9 turrets it is, then." Marcus muttered, throwing his helmet on and moving from his seat and towering over the other Guardians.

 **Author's Note:**

 **We'll just pretend it hasn't been like 2-3 months since my last update. Here's the next chapter of Outcasts.**

 **Expect the next bit (the cliffhanger) to be resolved really REALLY soon. (Didn't know how to segway into the action without ending the chapter)**

 **Also note that I am working on revising some of Outcasts and a LOT of Emergence (fixing broken/forgotten plot points and resolving some issues with the writing) so be sure to check the author's notes after every chapter to get an update on fixed chapters/points in the story.**

 **It's been a lot of fun writing this chapter, and it feels good to be back in the swing of things on this site. Expect way more from me in the near future.**

 **'Till the next one.**


	15. Chapter 11: Snow

The Guardians hovered in the center, right in view of every Skiff dropping off supplies that could possibly be in range to target them. Iksis took a deep garbled breath and prepared himself for what was about to happen.

The MAG guns weren't a problem, as they face outwards and not inwards. He was safe from them if he remained in the circle where they were planted. It was the Skiffs that would become the main target of aggression.

"Is everyone ready?" Iksis asked to the group behind them as they stood over the drop bays.

The vandal waited a moment for the group to protest. No one said no, so Iksis smacked the button that released them to the ground.

The Guardians left the Skiff and Iksis prepared his weapons for the targeted ships. While procrastinating destroying the other skiffs, he thought of dying another time. A second time. Death was still surreal to the Vandal, and dying as a Guardian was something he had yet to do.

Then, after a long pause, he slammed his hand forward on the trigger for the weapons, unleashing hellfire for the unsuspecting skiffs.

…

Theriad's boots hit the ground and immediately his instincts took place. He counted his enemies instantly, making out three dregs ahead that needed to go. His mind mapped out cover around him he could use, as well as possible enemy locations. He counted his bullets, adjusted trajectory for those bullets and timed each of his movements perfectly.

He drew his handcannon from its holster and adjusted a hand on the fan, squeezing the trigger at his three foremost enemies and slamming the fan back. He repeated this process exactly three times, downing each enemy then shifting his gaze to the next targets.

The bullets compromised their position and presence to the Fallen, and instantly hell broke loose in the encampment. Above them, the Skiff fired electric missiles at the other SIVA-infested Skiffs and took to the dogfight in the air, downing enemy ships while the Guardians on the ground charged the Fallen.

A Vandal moved in close with a Shrapnel Launcher, firing at Marcus in close proximity. The blast harmlessly soaked into his armor as his fist landed square in the Vandal's head, crushing it at the impact of the blow as he unleashed his oversized machine gun, slicking the trigger back as beautiful .50 caliber rounds were sprayed over the battlefield.

Ak'tal sank his sword into the chest of a Captain, moving through the partial SIVA barrier and absorbing the life force of the enemy, which gave the sword a brighter glow as he swung it at a group of Dregs charging him.

The one thing that the Guardians had realized was the shear amount of enemies. Countless Fallen were standing at each placement of MAG cannons, not to mention the fact that their cover was basically a few crates in the center of all of the guns. They needed something to clear out the large force of Fallen or they weren't going to succeed.

"Iksis!" Ashur shouted over the comms.

Without needing any directions or special instructions, the Skiff dove low to the ground and peppered the battlefield with a variety of explosives and weapons alike. The Fallen that were perched on ledges with shock rifles were for the most part gone, and the same was the case for any other Eliksni.

…

Iksis slammed the accelerator, preparing his weapons as he neared the proximity of a Skiff he was chasing.

He sent the blast towards the red SIVA-infested ship ahead of him, each of the smaller blasts hitting their mark and puncturing the hull, reveaing more SIVA tendrils and obelisks inside. He debated shoving another round of piercing ammunition into the exposed interior, but decided against it when he counted his ammo reserves.

As much as Iksis prepared and overcompensated for the future, he couldn't prepare his Skiff for something he'd hardly done. Seeing as it was his main method of transportation and shipping, it didn't leave much room for ammo.

Seeing that he couldn't spare much ammo, he sent the ship flying to the exposed hull, slamming the front forward and effectively T-boning the enemy fighter. The ship instantly split in two, sending Iksis's craft through the fire of the explosion left in its wake.

From what Iksis could tell, the impact did little to no damage to his Skiff, but it didn't change the fact that he was still low on ammo. "Low on ammunition. Will have to land soon." Iksis gargled to his team below.

…

"Understood, Iksis. We're approaching the first placement now!" Ashur shouted while midflight. The burst from a Fusion Rifle evaporated 3 Vandals in the distance perched with wire rifles.

He glanced at his surroundings, noticing the more heavily defended encampments. It seemed that every two cannons were less guarded than their third, where multiple reinforcements were placed.

This pattern followed throughout the whole base, which was strategically wise of the Fallen. The more troops they placed in one place, the more defended it would be. But they have to stretch their soldiers to accomidate all of the encampments. Seeing that their weakness was destroying 3 cannons, make the third almost impossible to beat.

"Theriad! Move with the Outcasts and destroy our cannon to our left, Marcus and I have the one straight ahead. We will regroup and destroy the third in the line." Ashur ordered.

The Hunter obliged and joined Krastis and Ak'tal as they charged their cannon.

They moved as one, Marcus sliding and sending his fist trembling to an unlucky Fallen while Ashur covered his back with a synergized fusion rifle blast, then being protected by Marcus as he spread bullets behind Ashur's shoulder to defend against a shock sabre.

The MAG cannon had an upper level with a Servitor providing support to the 3 Vandal Snipers and the Captain bolstering a shock cannon. The lower level had 2 Captains with swords holding the line, but Ashur imagined far more reinforcements in the tunnel that was behind them.

"This'll be easy." Marcus said, plucking a sniper from thin air and aiming it at the top level enemies. The reticle hovered right over a Vandal's small head, the dot barely touching the side of its face. Marcus adjusted with split-second timing, precariously moving the sniper nothing more than an inch to the left where he then pulled the trigger.

As Marcus adjusted for a second shot on the next sniper, a Skiff entered the lower atmosphere. Ashur looked up just in time to see a Skiff carrying a Walker on its underbelley, and to push Marcus out of the way as it dropped to the ground. The Walker targeted them instantly, marking their position with a red laser while Marcus regained his concentration, summoning a defensive Ward of Dawn right on its position.

"After it shoots it will most likely have to reload. We move then." Ashur shouted, preparing for a shock wave to be sent after the projectile hit the bubble.

They waited for what seemed like an eternity, silent and calm inside of the Ward of Dawn as the noise of battle was drowned out from inside.

The cannon swang back, just as the projectile hit the bubble and Ashur prepared a sprint, only to be dumbfounded at a second blast from the Walker, impacting the bubble in the same place as before.

Marcus visibly flinched at the second projectile, as not only was he not expecting it, but it was a lot of damage to the Ward, making it harder to maintain.

Then, a third projectile.

When the fourth came the Void wall flickered for a second, allowing the round to enter their small blockade and land right in front of Marcus's body, disintegrating it where he stood and sending Ashur flying behind.

The Ward disappeared as well as Marcus's body, though his Ghost remained shocked and dumbfounded on the battlefield with the Walker aiming right at it.

Ashur leaped to his feet, watching as the Ghost was caught in the worst situation possible. Time slowed for the Warlock, as his mind went to one task: Defending his friend's Ghost. His foot met the ground in front of him, which propelled him forward. Then another. Then another.

The Voidwalker jumped in the air, setting his mind to one spot on the battlefield and clearing it from other thoughts. His body disappeared slowly, his form practically leaping forward out of his form. His figure was faded and meshed through the air, just as he appeared to the Ghost's position.

He went to grab the Ghost when he realized just how close the Walker was to firing. If he went to grab it and blink out, he'd still be affected. They could both die.

Using his best judgement in a constricted time period, Ashur bound both of his hands together, creating a singularity with his mind and the void, channeling it between his hands. He watched the cannon jerk backward as the ball of void energy got larger. The positioning of the energy was perfectly perched to where the round would land, right in front of the Ghost. He knew he would have to get it perfect. An inch off and he could kiss his life goodbye.

But when the round escaped the barrel of the tank and was sent to the group, Ashur's form remained intact and living. The round was absorbed in the shapeless form of void energy. He looked at the Walker feeling triumphant, but was stopped by a familiar sight. Another blast.

He caught the fifth shot. Then the sixth. Then the seventh. Each shot sank into oblivion, never to be seen until Ashur wanted it to be. Seeing that 7 shots from the same walker was more than enough, he prepared himself to unleash the energy.

"I'd get back." Ashur said flatly, trying to maintain composure.

The Ghost took the oppurtunity and sank behind the Guardian, narrowly dodging rounds from other Fallen that were pelleted in his direction.

Ashur let the energy release to the direction of the Walker, sending the fury of a thousand dying suns and the power of 3 walker shots to the unfortunate Fallen machine. He didn't have time to pay attention to the blast but instead focused on reviving Marcus, channeling light energy to the Ghost as Marcus's body and his equipment materialized right in front of Ashur's eyes.

He raised his fusion rifle right at the Walker, seeing the cockpit exposed and the cannon completely melted off. Marcus charged the exposed machine and its Fallen crew, billowing shock energy from his fists and leaping forward. His fist slammed the ground with enough force to incapitate the strongest foe. It sent electrical charges surging through the Tank, killing the Fallen instantly and disabling the tank. The red pulsing SIVA nodes fell silent, and all that remained were dormant obelisks.

"For sending that crew the hellfire that is void energy as well as 3 of their own shots, I'm surprised at the condition of the Walker afterwards. Looks like SIVA does its job." Ashur observed, debating whether or not to document the results.

…

 _CLAK! CLAK! CLAK!_

Three enemies fell to Theriad's handcannon. Then four. Then five.

Finally, _Click!_ He was out of ammo.

But he had his tunnel vision set on killing everything.

He smacked a cartridge out of his belt and popped it into his handcannon as quickly as he could. He raised the barrel to a crowd of Vandals charging the group with shock sabres, fanning the trigger rapidly and downing a Fallen with each bullet.

While he shot, his Ghost rematerialized ammo from supplies he had stored in transmat, giving the Hunter a practically never-ending source of ammo.

"Akkie! Krastis! Move in!" Theriad shouted to his comrades. He was standing right outside of a gun emplacement and was planning on defending the Outcasts while they disabled the system. The two did as they were ordered, funneling into the entrance of the MAG cannon with the intent of bringing it down.

Theriad reloaded his gun and turned back to face the action, peeking from outside of the wall he was taking cover behind of. Right in front of his cover was a squad of Fallen which caught him off guard. The Hunter reached for his close-quarters solution, a shotgun, but was too late. The Captain kicked him back which stunned the Hunter, allowing for the Guardian to be shoved into the wall.

The Hunter looked to the Eliksni agressor only to see a sword swing from over its head, landing across Theriad's chest and cutting open his armor and skin. Instantly, the cold of the day hit the wound. Then the pain.

Theriad turned the pain into something else, his instincts delving deeper into savagery and bloodlust. The Hunter raised his handcannon only to see it swatted away as another Eliksni fist landed square in the face, cracking his helmet open as another blow impacted his bare face.

He couldn't think straight at this point. Not a single conscious thought breached his mind.

Theriad slid the helmet off almost seamlessly, the blood smearing across his face. The Hunter swung the helmet at the unsuspecting Captain, who was disoriented enough for Theriad to draw a knife and charge.

The Hunter tackled the Captain to the ground as the other members of his Platoon rushed Theriad. To this, the Hunter drew a sidearm with his other hand and raised the sight to the group of dregs and Vandals. Their expressions were surprised ones. They didn't see the manuver coming by any means. He pulled the trigger as the sights hovered right over their heads, each trigger pull downing another alien.

He shifted his attention back to the Captain.

The blade sunk into the Captain's chestplate and through his SIVA barrier, right to where the meshy Fallen skin was. Theriad jerked the knife to the right until the blade traveled out of the Captain's side, where the Fallen's blood splashed out and onto the snow. He took the tip of the blade and pried off the Captain's helmet all while the Eliksni squealed in pain, too shocked to gather his bearings and defend himself.

The helmet came off and Theriad landed a punch square in the side of the Captain's face hard enough to draw blood immediately. He landed another. And another. And another. Until the Captain's face was hardly recognizeable and his hands were covered in Fallen blood. But he wasn't dead.

The Hunter slowly dug his knife into the Fallen's throat. Blood poured out of the alien's mouth in large quantities while it struggled to breath right and instead choked and gargled on its own blood, practically drowning in it.

Theriad stood from the slaughter, reloading his sidearm, fetching his handcannon, and returning to the action while his Ghost rematerialized the armor and healed his wounds.

…

Marcus slammed the Vandal against a concrete wall with a powerful burst of energy coming from his shoulder. His fist landed right between a Captain's eyes, smacking him back while Ashur placed a perfectly-timed fusion rifle blast on the enemy. The Titan then elbowed a Dreg behind him, killing it instantly as a fist billowing with arc energy finished the last foe: a vandal.

He looked at Ashur, who was watching the entrance to the MAG cannon, who nodded at Marcus. The Titan turned to the console of the weapon, which was flashing flickering images on the screen relating to the nanite tech. He brought a fist through the screen and a knife to the wires that connected it. "Turret down." he said flatly.

…

Ashur was scared of Marcus when he got in the zone. If the warlock could describe him with one word it would be reluctant. He was a pacifist at heart, as though he naturally hated combat, but not because he hated it, but rather he hated what he would become when engaged.

The Titan was reluctant to start a fight with anyone, enemy or not. Once the fight started, he became distant and seperated from everyone else. He let his instincts take over and he would hold nothing back. It was frightening more times than helpful.

…

"Two cannons down!" Ashur informed Iksis, who barrel rolled to the left to avoid a burst from a pursuer. At this point, it was him and two other Skiffs, but he was reluctant to use any ammo. He would time his shots perfectly and make sure each one would bring down a ship.

It was through careful consideration that Iksis closed in on the turret, ready to take it out himself. "I'm closing in on the turret. Extracting soon."

Iksis plummeted his ship nose down, readying a bombing run for the last turret. The Vandal prepared the last of his ammunition, all while the remaining fighters in the air assaulted his skiff, peppering it with shrapnel and shock blasts.

He slammed the lever forward but didn't get to see the armanents hit their mark. A red flash was shown right before he blacked out entirely.


	16. Chapter 12: The Replication Chamber

Iksis opened his eyes. Below him, snow. Above him, the sky. This place looked familiar. The sounds he'd grown accustomed to were present as well. Gunfire. Shouting. More gunfire. An explosion here and there. He was still on the battlefield.

His hands then planted right into the fluffy cold mesh, squeezing it and hardening it as he applied more and more pressure. Then, a hand grabbed him by the shoulder. It was Theriad. The Hunter. One by one, the memories came back to him. Why he was here, and what he was doing. As the thoughts recuperated back inside his head, so did his awareness. First came the sounds. Gunfire, shouting, footsteps. Then came the visuals. He looked in the direction of his ship. Or rather, what was left of his ship. It was torn apart and left in a fiery mess right on top of the now-smashed MAG cannon. He winced at the sight.

Then, the pain came. All across his back. The Vandal let out a small screech at being surprised by the feeling. He could feel the metal pieces as they were ornately jabbed into his back, spread across the surface. The sudden flash of pain left him doubled over, his head near the snow as Theriad was shouting nonsense at the Fallen.

The pain that broiled inside his body began to transfuse. The wounds were being mended, the metal being plucked, transmatted, away from his body. Soon he was fine, and the extensive scratches and gouges that were once littered on his back were gone.

He felt an anger inside of himself. As though this feeling went beyond the pain he had felt. He had the sense of someone reuniting with their greatest enemy. A tugging in the gut. Something felt off with the air he was breathing. The sights he was seeing and the noises he was hearing. Everything tilted for the worse as Iksis had a slight moment of realization.

Iksis sprang to his feet, despite the pain up his back, sniffing out the source of the power. He scanned the battlefield, where hundreds of Fallen were behind cover, firing on the group. A wire rifle shot grazed past his face, off by less than an inch. Iksis was unfazed.

His eyes narrowed, just as he found the source. A large form in the middle of the battlefield, emerging slowly through the ranks and making its way to the group.

Aksis.

…

"The third MAG cannon is down! Request backup!" Ashur shouted into the comms. Theriad was to his left and could hear the plea for help from his Warlock friend. Theriad raised a handcannon over cover, then his head as he pulled the trigger. The Hunter couldn't see whether the return fire definitively hit specific enemies or killed any Fallen at all. He reloaded and plucked an auto rifle seemingly out of nowhere, raising back over cover to suppress the enemy.

"This can only help us for so long! They're moving up!" The Warlock shouted to his group this time. Marcus acknowledged this and stood to answer the call for assistance. Theriad could tell the Titan was drained, however. They all were.

Marcus placed a barrier in front of the group, towering about 7 feet tall and made out of pure light. "Fall back!" He shouted to the group while he maintained concentration on the barrier itself. The Guardians fled, Theriad carrying an unconscious Iksis.

Projectiles peppered the wall, leaving cracks and decaying its integrity slowly while Marcus focused more energy on it. The wall was big enough and tall enough to cover the group's retreat for a while as long as they stayed in its general vicinity. The wall healed the wounds, slowly mending the chips taken.

"Marcus! Go!" A voice behind him shouted. He risked a glance back and saw that his group was still running in the direction of a small collapsed building. He looked back ahead, seeing Fallen emerging with scorch cannons. One blast landed directly on the wall, threatening to blow it to pieces as it increased in intensity. Then another. And another.

Finally, the Titan dashed the other way as they detonated, sending a shockwave in Marcus's direction after destroying the wall.

He was thrown to the ground as Fallen blasts landed in the snow next to him. One smacked his shoulder plate. Then his back. They continued to mark his body, progressively hurting more and more.

He used what little strength he had left to draw a void aegis, a shield formed out of light itself. He raised it in the direction of the Fallen as it seeped his strength, slowly moving back to his group while the Fallen pelted his defense.

He took a small and short glance back to his group which had taken position in front of the building behind cover and providing supporting fire for Marcus's advance. It was time for the Titan to make a decision. He was either going to pass out on the battlefield from using the light too much and leave his ghost in the open, or he would be gunned down and leave his ghost in the open. Neither seemed like a good answer.

But before he could decide, a light _TING!_ Resonated from the shield. The Titan realized all too late that a scorch cannon's explosive had latched to the shield. Before he could throw or toss the light shield aside it detonated and sent the Titan backward in the snow. His body smacked the ground with enough force to kill a human ten times over. He felt dizzy, and everywhere on his body hurt. Namely his ribs. He could feel broken bones puncturing his lungs and digging further every time he exhaled and inhaled. His breathing became raspy and short.

The Titan lay in the snow, looking at the Fallen onslaught ahead of him. Countless Vandals and Captains taking up positions behind cover fired on him and his group. But something behind them had triggered his attention. It was a large spider-like creature, covered in the SIVA nanite technology. It walked on not two legs, but rather many mechanical ones. It was moving through the ranks quickly to Marcus's position. But before he could react, his vision faded and he lost consciousness.

…

Iksis gave the warning to his teammates, noting exactly what that figure was. It trudged through the snow, smashing past the Fallen and moving to the Titan's position. Unlucky for the Guardian, he hadn't noticed yet.

Iksis would've shouted to him, but his voice was more than gone. Which is why it was appropriate for the Titan, Marcus's, friends to shout to him. But the sounds and cries of war drowned out their voices and the Titan was still none the wiser.

The Hunter to his left suggested rushing for the Titan, reaching him before he was either killed or passed out. Options which the group considered but couldn't afford. The Hunter, Theriad as Iksis knew him, cursed the group and continued to shoot at the Fallen approaching.

But then, something strange happened. The Titan was thrown across the battlefield and was rendered useless to defend himself. It was then that Theriad ignored their warnings and darted over the wall, rushing the 20+ foot gap between him and the group's cover, running for Marcus.

He reached the body before Aksis could. But maybe Aksis wasn't planning on reaching the Titan. The second Theriad got there, he was met by SIVA tendrils smashing into the ground originating from Aksis. The Hunter preemptively dodged and avoided being crushed. The moment after they impacted he ignited himself in a flurry of arc energy, drawing a staff from pure arc light from seemingly nowhere and taking a swing at the second one.

From there, Theriad dodged out of the way of many SIVA tendrils and whacked the others with arc energy as they disintegrated and dissipated into nothing. He continued this as Aksis advanced closer to the Hunter, pelting him with more SIVA tendrils that each threatened to crush the Guardian where he stood.

This fight happened while Theriad's allies remained stationary, watching the events unfold with awe while the Fallen did the same. No one moved except for the two figures in the center, clashing each other with arc energy and SIVA nanites. It was as though the two sides formed a fight ring and were watching the two of them brawl for entertainment.

Iksis raised his Wire Rifle, hovering the reticle over a Captain but scared to pull the trigger for fear of upsetting the perfect peace.

Iksis had also never seen Theriad move in this way. He had grown accustomed to his Hunter friend materializing a handcannon from solar light, and relying more on precision and accuracy than martial and physical prowess. He moved with elegance, as though the arc energy allowed his thin form to pull off feats that he previously could not. It was astounding.

Theriad dodged another tendril, smacking it while the arc energy chained all the way up to Aksis's form itself, shocking the spider creature and disorienting him for a second this time. He made use of the distraction and propelled himself up with use of Aksis's leg as a stepping stone. He leaped onto Aksis's form, jabbing the spear straight through his chest and using that to further move himself up the mutilated Fallen, reaching its shoulders this time with two knives in hand, both ringing with electric power.

"ENOUGH!" The Fallen mutant roared, though he didn't open his mouth. SIVA nanites increased in frequency and concentration across his body then exploded in a pulse wave that was sent outwards. This blast threw Theriad off of the creature and onto the ground, smacking the snow with a few loud and teeth-clenching cracking sounds as he made impact.

This time, it was Ashur who rushed forward. His body soared over the cover, quite literally flying to Aksis as flames cascaded his form. A sword was drawn from the sun's energy, and a wall of flame bombarded Aksis.

Before the Fallen could react, Ashur was already on the machine, plunging to the ground and sending a fiery shockwave forward, dissipating the SIVA sent his way. He went to slashing his sword across one of his legs, but hadn't prepared to deflect a leg smacking him aside. The impact itself faded the flames to nothing but a simmer and sent the Warlock soaring to the left.

But still, the Fallen and Outcasts remained motionless. It was in this silence that Aksis spoke to the remaining Guardians.

"You are the discarded of your kind. Those born of the traveler's light cannot even defeat me now. All this time spent waging war over a machine god and its bestowed powers, and my splicers found a technology to best its blessing. No longer do the Fallen have to suffer under the might of humanity because we have become better than humans. Better than Guardians. So confront me if you wish. Your fate will be the same regardless."

Iksis's mouth twitched. He remained stationary, ready to pull the trigger this time on Aksis while Ak'tal and Krastis rushed forward.

Aksis laughed, sending a swarm of SIVA to Krastis, which enveloped him and rendered him invisible while he simply swatted away Ak'tal. Krastis continued to struggle against the nanites, and Iksis could see the occaisional flame seeping out of the hive, but for the most part, he was held captive. Ak'tal tried to get up but was then pinned by another tendril. Meanwhile, the other Guardians were incapacitated.

"So, lone wolf, do you accept my challenge? Do you wish to face me?" Aksis asked. The words resonated with the Fallen Vandal. _Lone wolf._

He remembered the Speaker's words. About using his light not to benefit himself, but rather to benefit his group. That he 'was no longer a lone wolf'.

"No. Because I am no longer a lone wolf. I fight for my group." Iksis said, drawing dual sabers and approaching Aksis.

He felt a tugging in his gut. Something wanting to come out. Slowly, tendrils of electricity moved around his body, and an aura was emanating from his body. He slowly walked to Aksis, who started laughing.

"What group? It seems that you are alone. No one to fight with you." He spat.

Then, the energy moved from imploding on his insides to exploding on the cold and wintery battlefield.

…

Theriad simply didn't have the strength to continue. He'd overstretched his own powers, using them far too much than he should have. He didn't combat that Fallen machine using Bladedancer techniques because he felt it the best option. It was simply that it was all he could muster. Bladedancing doesn't require tapping into the sun itself or pulling out of quite literally nothing. It was simple. Let the raw energy out. Don't condense it. Don't control it.

Regardless, it didn't matter.

He watched Iksis leave from his cover and approach Aksis while the rest of the Outcasts were entangled with SIVA. Must have missed that part. Theriad felt his eyes getting heavier, each second threatening to send him to sleep.

He refused to let his vision fade to black and instead watched his Eliksni ally confront Aksis, the two exchanging conversation that he couldn't understand. But then something weird happened. He saw the saber-wielding Vandal utilize arc energy, sending a small wave of the energy moving towards him, expanding outward. The arc trickled past, giving him an energized feeling, sending strange feelings to his gut and sending him into a state of adrenaline. The bruises and pains he felt were gone, and he could feel the light within him restored, as though he could use it forever without consequence.

He rose to his feet as Marcus and Ashur did the same, Theriad drawing a void bow in the process and taking aim at Aksis. Ashur drew his flaming sword, a gift from the sun, and sent his body ablaze while Marcus drew a void shield, holding it at his side. The three stood in a line behind Iksis. Ak'tal swiped his sword with his free hand, breaking the bond that held him to the ground and rising to his feet while Krastis ignited all of the nanites, waltzing back to the group and taking place behind Iksis.

To this, the Fallen mech looked stunned. Too bewildered to try and maintain the handicaps he once had on Ak'tal and Krastis. All at once, the group charged the Fallen, moving as one singular unit and banking off of each other moves and strategies. Theriad cast a Shadowshot to Aksis's left and right arms, tethering them to the ground and preventing SIVA tendrils from escaping his grasp. A third arrow was fired at the horde of Fallen, tethers and void chains latched out to his enemies and keeping them in place for a short time. To this, Ak'tal leaped forward and plunged his sword into the void anchor and sent more energy pulsing through it. This energy escaped through the anchors, sending this void light to the victims that were caught in its snare, killing all attached as the Knight swept through the crowd of Fallen, growing in power as more foes were slaughtered by his blade.

Iksis stood in one place, sending his energy pulsing through his allies as they went to work on Aksis. He watched Ashur plunge his sword into one of Aksis's legs, to which the outraged Fallen mutation managed to free one of his arms and send SIVA toward's the flying warlock's way. To counteract this, Marcus dove in front and took the brunt of the blow with his void shield, letting the warlock hack his sword across Aksis's face, leaving a noticeable slashing mark across his metal helmet. The Fallen machine groaned in agony.

Krastis went to work with Ak'tal managing to keep the Fallen masses at bay, sending flames toward the ones that threatened to attack and protecting his Hive ally.

The efforts persisted, and the group could tell that Aksis was growing weaker as time went on. But he was also finding a new sense of anger and rage that previously had not been there. He was getting desperate and tired.

He smacked the Warlock away, sending him plummeting into the cold sand below. The Titan, as expected, had attempted to block his maneuver, but Aksis had seen it coming and grabbed him, holding him suspended in midair with increasing pressure. He threw the Guardian above him, sending SIVA nanites in the form of a blade forward, impaling the Guardian and suspending him midfall. The shield faded from existence, as did his life force. He chucked the Guardian away, searching for the Hunter and finding him a distance away. Standing in front of Iksis. Aksis had a realization. It had appeared that their Fallen ally was granting them this source of power. Gave them the ability to mend their wounds faster than before and keep the gift of the machine god persistent.

The warlock had risen once more, and to counteract this Aksis had preemptively kept him at bay by pulverizing him with SIVA. But the Hunter was more keen on his senses than the rest. He had fallen back, and prepared a ranged option, forging a flaming pistol and taking aim at Aksis.

With a trigger pull, Aksis jerked back. And another. And another. The shots persisted, regardless of whether or not Aksis could prepare a SIVA barrier. He felt his life force threatening to fade away, and he couldn't see a release other than retreat. Victory was not an option for the Fallen right now. His wounds were almost countless and with serious degree. He would have to heal and return to fight them or let them track him down. Their persistence was going to be their downfall.

He saw the Hunter smirk as he finished his trigger-happy craze. A small, but noticeable, smirk of victory. The Hunter may have won this battle, but he was not going to win the next. This gave Aksis a sense of satisfaction. He looked at retreat in a different light now. Let them come and find him. It would be their demise.

"Your same presented persistence is why your Iron Lords failed. Why they are all dead. Chasing the threat of SIVA, seeking to master it, pushing and overextending as you will and ending up dead. Laid waste to. It is why the Fallen are superior. We don't need your traveler's blessing." Aksis spat. The look on the Hunter's face, as well as the lowering of his solar cannon, was enough to satisfy his retreat. With that, SIVA particles appeared around Aksis as he was removed from the battlefield and replaced at his source of power.

But what was left was the Fallen. He could see Aksis and Krastis taking cover behind a wall, pelting the ever-retreating Fallen. At this point, Marcus and Ashur had been resurrected and were moving towards the two Guardians with guns drawn.

To the groups left, in the open section of the MAG emplacement, a roaring was heard. Each of them simultaneously turned their heads to view the approaching sounds. They were met with the sight of Guardian gunships moving through the gap, their pilots materializing in front of them. There was too much left to fight for Theriad to dwell on Aksis's words. He raised his handcannon as familiar faces materialized around him, joining the fight and pushing the Fallen back. Making their way around the encampment and slaughtering all of Eliksni in their way. One by one.

Theriad saw Lord Saladin himself become present at the battle, followed by a line of Guardians charging straight into the Fallen. The Iron Lord separated himself from the final push, moving to Theriad and his group with three more familiar faces. Lexi, Amon, and Malcolm. Theriad avoided looking at Lexi but rather focused his attention on Saladin. The Iron Lord removed his helmet and prepared to speak with Theriad and his allies.

"Your steps taken to destroy the Replication Chamber will not be forgotten. Your services to me and the fallen Iron Lords cannot be repaid. But there is more to be done. The Replication Chamber is merely the first step in wiping out the threat of SIVA, as I am certain you all know. Good work Guardians." The stalwart Iron Lord announced.

But behind Lord Saladin, two more figures approached. Both robotic, and both the build of a Hunter. When they got closer, their identities were no longer a secret. It was Shiro and Cayde.

"Hey there Guardians. Good work on the turrets. While you were down here fighting countless Fallen, destroying SIVA, clearing a beachhead and so on, Shiro and I took to the daunting task of having to search through the Bray archives. Lots and lots of reading. Anywho, I learned something about the Replication Chamber." Cayde stated. Shiro and Cayde's ghost interjected right after, both saying, " _You_ didn't read anything."

Their presence surprised Lord Saladin, who cleared his throat and stepped back, allowing for the two Hunters to explain what their discoveries were.

"The Replication Chamber can't necessarily be destroyed, you see. It can only be controlled. Which explains why the Fallen were able to use it in its weakened state. It can repair itself, keep itself maintained. Turns out SIVA's a bit more advanced than we had originally thought. So we can't destroy it." Cayde said. There was a long pause.

"But if we can't destroy it, how do we stop the Fallen from making more SIVA?" Ashur asked, breaking the silence. "Well, there is a way to control it. And it seems that the Fallen didn't account for this during their whole 'takeover'. If the Fallen seized control of the Replication Chamber, the only way they could have done so was to change the biometric identifier of the chamber to be able to produce it and control SIVA. Which means only an Eliksni can enter the chamber, and only an Eliksni can control the chamber. Lucky for us, we have just that." Cayde said, this time gesturing to Iksis. "But if they didn't do this, and somehow managed to control it without the Replication Chamber's help, which I doubt since they have 9 MAG cannons around the perimeter to defend it, we'll all die and this would have been for nothing." Cayde chided.

"Take me to the replication chamber." Iksis groveled. The Vandal was speaking to Cayde, who had already turned the other way and began walking from the group.

The Hunter Vanguard continued walking, but turned his head back and explained, "Me? Oh, I'm not taking you down there. No thanks. I have to get back to the Tower before Zavala finds out I'm gone." He then was transmatted away from the battlefield, no doubt to his ship to fly back to the Tower.

…

They moved through the replication chamber which was completely empty. Other than the dormant SIVA nodes and ever-moving SIVA tentacles, there wasn't much action to be had. Theriad, Marcus, Ashur, Iksis, Krastis, Ak'tal, Lexi and her group, and a few extra Guardians, as well as Saladin himself, followed in. Saladin's face was exposed, so the entire group could see his expression. It was grim. As though he had connected this place with loss and tragedy. But still, he held the unlit waraxe in both hands, its form threatening to catch fire at any moment.

The group remained quiet, tensing up more and more as the replication chamber was completely silent. Nobody dared speak a word. Everything about this place, the SIVA tendrils flexing and bending out towards anyone who walked past them, the infected atmosphere of the facility, and its dormant fell was nothing but creepy.

Each door they went through gave a friendly tone, lit up blue, and gave more offset to the entire scene. Everyone there knew that this facility was used for research. That it was meant to only feel empty, rather than menacing. But the Fallen and their grasp on SIVA manipulated the entire base. It all seemed alive but dead at the same time.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of walking and silence, they reached the large entrance to what was the Replication Chamber. Everyone stopped, raised guns, and waited for Iksis to step forward. He did so, as calm and collected as he could. The large metal doors lit up as the others had and slowly slid open, each panel retreating back and slithering from sight, revealing another hall that no doubt led to the Replication Chamber.

"This is as far as we can proceed. We will have to wait here. I wish you luck, Guardian." Saladin grimly stated. Iksis found more reason to enter the Replication chamber after he had called him a Guardian, rather than Eliksni, Vandal, or Outcast. Iksis knew his duties.

…

They had waited outside the chamber for what seemed like an eternity. Not a single word was mentioned, nor did anybody move. Saladin especially was silent and still. Like a statue. There was obviously something about this place that had set him off. Something that gave him this frozen look. But it wasn't just his expression that made everybody uneasy. Nobody wanted to venture inside as not only did they have confidence in Iksis, they didn't feel like dying if he had failed.

It had seemed like long enough without a report from the Vandal to warrant communication. "Iksis. How's it going?" Theriad asked.

Krastis had made an observation about his Hunter friend. He was a different person outside of combat, and a different person when in it. As though two halves of a whole merged, but he couldn't tell who was the true Theriad. In combat, his mood was grim. He seemed calculating, to the extent that he or Ashur would take notice of it. He reminded Krastis of a scholar, but of battle. A scholar of war. As though the motions of war and battle were familiar to him at all times. There was never a time that Theriad had a doubt, and very rarely did he speak during battle. There was always something to be done, something that could be done better. But when out of combat he was as ordinary as the rest of them. He seemed as though he was full of emotion, and a living breathing thing rather than a cold calculating machine.

"This technology is all foreign. SIVA is everywhere. However, I believe I have...erm… 'cracked the code'. These… mites… are deactivated. Should be safe to enter."

With that, the group turned to the door with guns drawn, moving past the door. For however tense they were, Iksis had been right. The technology that would usually be reaching out to them was completely still. To this, the Guardians lowered their guns. All but Saladin.

"Be wary. There may be an abundance of us, but that didn't stop SIVA the first time." He said in a grim tone. This alone made the fireteam tense up again. Even Lexi, who made it a personal goal to look the most stalwart of everyone in the group had the same nervous tone everyone carried with them.

Finally, they approached the large second set of plates that would give them access to the Replication Chamber. Saladin trudged forward, the door sliding open and revealing a large open room. There seemed to be two levels of the room. One that was raised yet level with the hall, with a console perched in the center and two sets of stairs descending to the second lower level, where two large pillars with various computer screens and nanites riddled about. These seemed to be producing the SIVA, or at least they were until Iksis had disabled them.

Iksis was at the center console and turned to his allies as they entered the room. "My Eliksni 'brothers' can no longer produce this technology. They will have to use what they currently have. This makes our job easier, yes?"

Saladin nodded. "It won't stop them from using the SIVA they already have, but this is certainly a start."

"If we cut off the Replication Chamber from the Fallen, could we somehow utilize it to produce SIVA for ourselves?" Ashur asked. "There is no certain way to tell. The first time the Iron Lords tried this, it fought us because Rasputin views us as a threat. Now that it has been severed from Rasputin's grasp… there is a chance. If it could blindly follow the Fallen's orders, surely it could follow ours. However, _you_ do not have time to figure that out. The Vanguard, as well as I, need you on another assignment. It is time that we destroy the threat of SIVA." Saladin said. "Now that we have the Replication Chamber secured and our forces inserted as a beach head, we can concentrate our efforts elsewhere. Let the Vanguard's Warlocks figure this puzzle out." He continued.

…

The short journey back to the Tower was an awkward one, but Iksis was perfectly content with the situation.

Sure, he had plenty to be mad about. Aksis. SIVA. The xenophobic distaste for him and his allies. But he also had a lot to be proud of. He had proved indispensable during combat, and even saved his entire fireteam's lives. They owed their very existence to him. That was enough to make him eccentric for a long time, but what followed that was acceptance. Which explained why he was a passenger in Lexi's fireteam Javelin. He, the other Outcasts, Theriad, Marcus, and Ashur were all hitching a ride back to the tower. And one that was not asked of but rather offered.

Which brought him to the most troubling issue of all. Where was he going to find another Skiff? That was what had infuriated him the most. The fact that he no longer had his home. Sure, the Tower was a place for him to rest at night, but the Skiff was where the memories were. Where he truly felt he belonged. As the humans said, 'Home is where the heart is'. Iksis interpreted it as a home being where they felt they belonged, rather than where their heart was. That made the most sense to him.

He had also felt as though he was gaining more and more of an understanding of the humans and their customs, as well as their attitudes. The more he learned about the humans, the more he understood why the Machine God had chosen them over the Eliksni. Well, over _most_ Eliksni.

In the Machine Gods eyes, its chosen are those best fit to fight its enemy, and the fittest to protect it. The Traveler, as the humans called it, would need to choose just the right candidate. So when the Whirlwind occurred on Iksis's homeworld, it only made sense for the Traveler to flee. The Fallen were not capable of fighting its battles.

Because where the Fallen were resourceful and were masters of foreign technology, they lacked the innovation that humans had. The humans could do more with the little they are given, and manipulate it in a way that the Fallen couldn't. In other words, they were more creative. And because of this, it only seemed right that the humans be granted this gift.

He certainly never viewed humanity as a true enemy to the Fallen. After all, they were taking refuge in the human's solar system and waged wars against humans during their weakest points in an effort to triumph. Iksis merely saw humans as the superior. But now that he spent more time with them, he realized that the Eliksni were not so different than the humans and that the reason they had failed was ultimate because the humans were dealt the better cards and as a result played them better.

He truly never wanted to kill Guardians. He understood their circumstance and knew the root of their aggression towards his kind. To an extent, he understands their distaste for him now. But it had always been a matter of survival. He had killed many, destroyed their Ghosts and scavenged the parts from before he was Chosen. Yet he never instigated a fight. He did everything out of a need for survival. Which sums up the Fallen collectively. However, they can no longer continue to live and continue as a species if they did not accept surrender to the humans. The Fallen were losing their command, losing numbers. They collectively didn't have the influence required to band together. Their Kells and commanders were dwindling in size. Leadership being transitioned only weakened the new leader further. The Fallen would have to move past their war with the humans if they wanted to survive.

So maybe the Traveler still had faith in the Fallen, maybe it never lost it. Obviously, he chose Iksis for a reason. That reason could be to unite the Fallen against the darkness, rather than assimilate them against the humans. But if Iksis's purpose was to unite the Fallen with the humans, what did that make of Ak'tal and Krastis?

…

The fireteams sank down the stairs leading to the Vanguard Hall, where they had been requested. It was time that they learned the endgame to SIVA and how they would finally stop it and the Fallen from attacking the city.

When they approached the table, Zavala wasted no time. "Guardians. You know the city owes you numerous favors. Uncountable, actually. But I'm not going to spend this briefing thanking you. There is a time and place for honoring your courage, which takes place after we deal with this threat once and for all. We are in the process of organizing a strike force, led by you," Zavala informed, gesturing at Theriad's fireteam and the Outcasts as a whole. "To destroy the Fallen utilizing the SIVA. we've pinged a source of Splicer activity. The wall of the Cosmodrome, where old Golden Age laboratories had been staged specifically for SIVA. We know, through the data supplied to us at the Replication Chamber, that this is where the Splicers are operating. The primary task will be to eliminate the Fallen commanding SIVA."

"Which we know for sure is that creepy spider-mech machine thing you fought during the Replication Chamber takeover." Cayde started. "Obviously more planning is required, but be ready for one hell of a fight tomorrow. For now, however, you've earned some rest. Report back tomorrow in the morning." He continued. He gave a small two-finger salute and returned to whatever he had previously been working on while Zavala stared daggers at his Hunter colleague. It was assumed Zavala had more to say, but Cayde shrugged it off and returned to what he had been working on prior. No doubt the plan of attack. "Oh, and when you see Saladin next, let him know I said hi." Cayde finished. With that, it was clear that they had been dismissed even if not by Zavala.

…

The remainder of that night had not been focused on dwelling on what was next with the Guardians, but rather how they could cherish the moment. The Outcasts spent their time with the Speaker, each one of them eager to learn the extent of their powers and find out more about the Traveler's decision. Meanwhile, Theriad, Ashur, and Marcus spent their time in the city.

The day had been long for Theriad. He was physically drained. Nothing left to run on, but somehow he continued walking with Marcus and Ashur, Amanda tagging along right next to Theriad. Regardless of how tired he was, he wouldn't spend a minute dwelling on the battle, but rather the good times, he had outside of being a Guardian.

There wasn't much the Hunter could be discontent with. He had great friends. Ashur, though sometimes cold and lacking empathy, had (almost) never failed to be there for Theriad. It was clear that, even though Ashur could not show it, he appreciated Theriad's friendship as much if not more than Theriad did. There was nothing that the two wouldn't sacrifice to save the other.

The same was with Marcus. It was because of this Titan that Theriad could say he was still alive. In many instances. He had been the voice of reason in many cases, and had kept the group together even when it had threatened to collapse on itself. But his bond with Marcus went deeper. He felt he could be entirely open with Marcus and tell him exactly what was happening, but also enjoy the good and simple times that were a rare commodity.

Then there was Amanda. Although two completely different and seperate halves, they worked insanely well together. Their relationship wasn't orthodox by any means, simply because of how different they both were, but somehow that made it easier to maintain and easier to appreciate. Everything about it was just perfect, even if it wouldn't work in theory.

The rest of the night had been a blur to Theriad once they reached and entered the Tavern. Theriad didn't drink, neither did Amanda, but Ashur and Marcus did so like it was the last time they would ever be able to. A fear that could be completely founded and legitimate, but Theriad tossed it aside. He'd never not returned from a battle, regardless how gruesome and difficult. He'd slain literal gods and destroyed entire timelines. There was no way that a few rogue careless Fallen were going to kill him.

It was simply the blend of his situation. Each part of the night formed together in such a way that time passed extremely fast, and before he knew it he was walking Amanda into their shared room. His need for sleep could easily be attributed to his inability to recollect the night's events or how they meshed together to lead him here.

He walked inside, swinging the door open and switching on the light, then finding himself in his bed with Amanda nestled in his arms. They had normal night-time conversations, Theriad explaining the day's events and what would happen the next day, and his overall schedule. She didn't necessarily like the idea of him having to topple the entire Fallen threat in one day. Not because she thought it dangerous, but rather because she didn't really like that the would be identical to that day's.

"Why is it you that has to fight tomorrow. Why not the other numerous Guardians?" She asked in a low whisper. "Being the best has its ups and downs." Theriad retorted, also in the same low-toned whisper Amanda had. "Can't you not be the best this time?" She joked. Theriad gave a slight smirk, looking back up at the ceiling. "I'm not joking, Theriad. I mean it. Why is it always you that has to deal with these problems? Don't you want to have a normal life? If not for you then for us?"

"I'm doing this for myself. I _am_ doing this for us. If we want to be safe, to be able to call this place home and rely on it, I have to do what I have to do." He calmly stated. She looked away for a second, giving Theriad a taste of Amanda's real emotions. She wasn't as simple and cold as everyone perceived her. She had emotions just like any normal person did. Even if she didn't always let it show, they were always there with her.

"I just don't see why it has to be _you."_

Theriad gave a slight frown, then quietly muttering, "Me neither." and staring up at the ceiling.

Before he knew it, his eyes were closed. Unable to find the strength or willpower to open them back up, he submitted to the need for sleep.

 _Night terror time._

…

" _It would seem that your options are limited, Hunter. Dwindling. Hope for your kind has flatlined. The minor threat, if you could even call it a threat, has done me a great service. The very thing prohibiting me from laying waste to your puny world and enacting my revenge is your pre-collapse machines. The luck your predecessors had bestowed upon you has run short. Because now, I can march right on your Tower's balcony and slaughter you 'Guardians', starting with you. I am coming for you, Hunter._ "

 ** _Author's Note:_**

 ** _Long chapter, ran through a lot of revisions. Give me dat good ol' feedback. Let me know what I could do better, or just general critiques that you guys have._**

 _ **I'm planning on doing a lot with this story, a lot of different side stories and side conflicts that I hope to resolve within the story, so really, stressing this foremost, any and all feedback is appreciated and accepted. I'll put it in all caps for you:**_

 _ **PLEASE REVIEW!**_

 _ **Anyways, see you guys when I see you. Thanks for reading this whack story thus far and for your favorites/follows. Means a lot.**_


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